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MEMOIRS 


OF 


THE  LIFE  AND  WRITINGS 


LINDLEY    MURRAY: 


IN  A  SERIES  OF  LETTERS, 


WRITTEN   BY   HIMSELF. 


WITH    A    PREFACE    AND    A    CONTINUATION    OF    THE    MEMOIRS, 

BY  ELIZABETH  FRANK. 


Jirto  Itorfe: 


PUBLISHED  BY  SAMUEL  WOOD    AND    SONS,    RICHARD   WOOD,    COLLINS    AND 

HANNAY,   COLLINS  AND   CO  ,    MAHI.ON    DA.V,    G      AND    C.    CARVILL, 

W.  B    GILLEY,  E.  BLISS  AND  E.  WHITK,  AND  A.  T.  GnODRICH  : 

Philadelphia,  B.  AND  T.  KITE,  AND  TOWAK  AND  HOGAN  ; 

Boston,  RICHARDSOil  AND  LORU. 

1827, 


ill 


Samuel  Wood  and  Sons,  Printers. 


PREFACE. 

IN  presenting  this  little  volume  to  the  public,  I  am  solicitous 
to  state  the  reasons  which  led  to  its  publication  ;  and  I  flatter 
myself  they  will  prove  satisfactory. 

The  celebrity  which  the  subject  of  these  Memoirs  had  ob- 
tained, and  the  interest  which  he  had  excited,  by  his  arduous 
and  successful  endeavours  to  promote  the  literary,  moral,  and 
religious  improvement  of  youth,  often  induced  me  to  think 
that,  after  his  decease,  a  short  and  authentic  account  of  his 
life  and  character,  would  be  acceptable  to  the  public.  To  that 
part  of  the  public  more  immediately  benefited  by  his  labours, 
the  work  would,  I  apprehended,  prove  peculiarly  pleasing. 

Under  these  impressions,  I  made,  at  different  periods,  some 
notes  and  observations,  preparatory  to  an  undertaking  of  this 
nature,  f  was,  however,  sensible  that,  from  various  circum- 
stances, particularly  from  my  not  having  been  acquainted  with 
Mr.  Murray  till  he  was  considerably  advanced  in  life,  I  was  not 
qualified  to  execute  the  task  as  I  could  wish.  I  was  convinced 
too,  that  no  person,  except  himself,  possessed  that  accurate 
knowledge  of  the  events  of  his  life,  and  the  formation  of  his 
character,  which  would  render  the  work  truly  interesting  and 
instructive.  His  friends  in  America  had  had  but  little  inter- 
course with  him,  except  by  letter,  since  the  fortieth  year  of 
his  age  :  his  friends  in  England  had,  of  course,  known  him  only 
since  that  period,  when  his  character  and  principles  were 
formed ;  and  from  the  ill  state  of  his  health,  his  subsequent 
life  was  spent  in  retirement.  I  had  heard  various  reports  re- 
specting him,  and  I  had  also  seen  a  printed  account,  which, 
though  apparently  not  originating  in  any  ill  will,  or  in  any  ill 
design,  were  utterly  void  of  foundation,*  I  was  apprehensive, 

*  I  do  not,  by  any  means,  allude  to  a  short  biographical  sketch,  in- 
serted in  the  European  Magazine,  1803 ;  and  thence  copied  into  various 
periodical  publications :  that  account,  as  far  as  it  goes,  is  perfectly  au- 
thentic; and,  in  every  particular,  strictly  consistent  with  the  tenoiir  of 
these  Memoirs. 


IV 

that,  after  his  death,  some  of  these  accounts,  or  others  of  a 
similar  nature,  might  obtain  currency,  and  even  find  their  way 
into  respectable  publications,  if  not  prevented  by  a  true  and 
well  authenticated  statement  of  facts. 

These  circumstances  induced  me  earnestly  to  wish  that  he 
might  become  his  own  biographer.    But  I  knew  that  the  deli- 
cacy of  his  mind  would,  at  least  in  the  first  instance,  revolt  at 
the  proposal.     I  therefore  contented  myself  with  hinting  to 
him  my  intention  of  writing,  if  I  should  survive  him,  a  short 
ficcount  of  his  life  ;  and  I  requested  his  assistance  only  in  sup- 
plying me  with  a  few  materials,  relative  to  the  period  preced- 
ing my  acquaintance  with  him      It  was  not  without  many  ar- 
guments, and  much  solicitation,  that  I  could  induce  him  to  ac- 
knowledge the  propriety  of  my  proposal,  and  to  promise  com- 
pliance.    The  work,  however,  was  not  begun  till  long  after- 
wards ;  and  it  was  frequently  suspended,  on  account  of  his 
numerous  literary  avocations,  and  the  weak  state  of  his  health, 
At  length,  after  many  interruptions,  and  demurs  respecting  its 
propriety,  it  was  completed  in  a  series  of  letters  addressed  to 
myself.     I  was  so  well'pleased  with  the  performance ;  and  I 
believed  that  it  would  be  so  much  more  agreeable  and  inter- 
esting in  the  author's  own  words  and  manner,  than  in  any  I 
could  devise,  that  I  relinquished  my  original  idea.     I  could 
not  be  satisfied  to  receive  what  he  had  written,  as  materials 
only :  but  I  strongly  urged  him  to  continue  the  work  to  the 
time  of  his  writing;  and  to  allow  me,  (if  circumstances  should 
seem  to  require  the  measure,)  to  publish  it,  after  his  decease, 
in  the  form  in  which  he  had  written  it.     To  this,  after  much 
consideration,  he  consented  ;  continuing  to  express  an  appre- 
hension, that  neither  the  subject,  nor  the  manner  in  which  it  is 
treated,  is  worthy  of  public  notice  and  approbation:  an  opin- 
ion in  which,  I  believe,  few  readers,  will  concur. 

As  some  persons  may  be  inclined  to  think,  that  I  acted  im- 
properly in  inducing  him  to  write  these  Memoirs,  and  after- 
wards to  consent  to  their  publication,  I  must,  in  justice  to  my- 
self, be  allowed  to  make  a  few  observations  on  the  subject. 
Many  pious  persons  have  written  memoirs  of  their  own  lives, 


and  some  even  purposely  for  publication ;  and  such  works  have 
been  perused  with  much  interest  and  edification  by  the  most 
respectable  part  of  the  community.  I  should  not  have  urged 
the  proposal,  had  I  not  been  persuaded  that  Mr.  Murray's  ob- 
jections to  it.  had  no  other  foundation  than  a  humble  sense  of 
his  own  merit,  and  an  unwillingness  to  intrude  himself  unne* 
cessarily  on  the  attention  of  the  world ;  and  that  the  removing 
of  these  objections,  might,  without  doing  him  any  injury,  or 
exciting  any  improper  sentiments  in  his  mind,  be  the  means  of 
introducing  to  the  public  a  pleasing  and  instructive  little  work. 
Without  his  consent,  I  should  not  have  deemed  myself  author- 
ized to  publish  it ;  fully  concurring  in  sentiment  with  him,  that 
the  publishing  of  any  letter,  without  permission  from  the  writer, 
is,  to  say  the  least,  a  flagrant  breach  of  decorum,  of  honour, 
and  of  that  confidence  which  is  the  basis  of  all  social  and 
friendly  intercourse. 

If,  notwithstanding  this  explanation,  there  should  still,  in 
the  apprehension  of  any  person,  appear  the  slightest  cause  of 
censure,  I  trust  that  it  will  fall  on  the  editor  who  first  suggest- 
ed the  idea  of  the  work,  and  strongly  urged  the  execution 
of  it ;  and  not,  in  any  degree,  on  the  departed  author.  I  can 
truly  say,  that  every  sentiment  which  he  expressed,  during 
the  whole  course  of  the  discussion,  was  strictly  consistent,  on 
the  one  hand,  with  the  integrity  of  his  principles,  and  the  deli- 
cacy of  his  feelings  ;  and  on  the  other,  with  the  wish  which 
he  candidly  avowed,  of  not  unnecessarily  withholding  any 
thing,  that  might  tend  to  the  gratification  of  friendship,  and  of 
innocent  or  even  laudable  curiosity,  if  not  to  the  promotion 
of  higher  objects. — The  suggestion  that  the  serious  reflec- 
tions with  which  this  little  work  abounds,  might  be  beneficial, 
especially  to  young  persons,  seemed  much  to  reconcile  him  to 
the  publication. 

It  may  not  be  improper  to  state,  that  these  Memoirs  are 
published  exactly  as  I  received  them  from  the  author :  I  have 
neither  added,  nor  diminished,  any  thing  ;  not  having  thought 
myself  at  liberty,  nor  indeed  having  any  wish,  to  make  the 
slightest  variation. 


VI 

I  have  annexed  to  the  Memoirs,  a  short  account  of  the 
concluding  years  of  the  author's  life,  his  character,  and  some 
remarks  on  his  various  publications  :  an  addition  that  seemed 
necessary  to  complete  the  information,  which  this  little  vol- 
ume is  designed  to  convey.  In  what  I  have  written,  I  am  not 
sensible  that  I  have,  in  any  respect,  departed  from  the  exact 
truth.  I  can,  on  this  occasion,  fully  adopt  the  sentiment  which 
Dr.  Beattie  expresses  with  regard  to  his  son:  "In order  to 
convey  a  favourable  notion  of  the  person  of  whom  I  speak,  I 
have  nothing  to  do  but  to  tell  the  simple  truth." 

I  had  abundant  opportunity  of  being  acquainted  with  the 
life  and  character  of  the  late  much  esteemed  Lindley  Murray. 
During  many  years,  from  motives  of  friendship  to  himself  and 
his  wife,  I  lived  under  his  roof;  and  afterwards,  having  remov- 
ed into  a  house,  which  I  had  purchased  in  the  suburbs  of  the 
city  of  York,  about  half  a  mile  from  his  residence,  I  was  in 
the  habit  of  visiting  them  very  frequently.  Some  readers  may, 
indeed,  think  that  I  have  given  unnecessary  proof  of  intimate 
acquaintance,  by  relating  many  particulars,  which  they  may 
deem  too  minute.  To  them  it  may  appear  that  I  have,  with 
an  unhallowed  or  injudicious  hand,  removed  the  veil,  which 
retirement  had  cast  over  my  friend,  and  which  shaded  him 
from  the  glare  of  public  observation.  But  it  must  be  allowed, 
that  in  the  representation  which  I  have  given  of  him,  I  have 
only  exhibited  him  to  the  many  as  he  appeared  to  the  com- 
paratively few,  who  were  intimately  acquainted  with  him;  and 
that  the  more  he  was  known,  the  more  he  was  loved  and  es- 
teemed. In  his  character  there  was  no  affected  singularity  ; 
and  in  his  habits,  there  were  no  peculiarities,  except  such  as 
resulted  from  a  judicious  or  necessary  conformity  to  unavoida- 
ble circumstances.  Nor  was  there  any  thing  in  his  conduct, 
or  even  in  the  detail  of  his  domestic  arrangements,  which  rer 
quired  concealment ;  or  which  could  not  bear  the  test  of  near 
approach,  and  close  examination.  I  may  further  shield  my- 
self under  the  example  and  authority  of  Dr.  Johnson.  In  his 
Lives  of  the  Poets,  he  narrates,  with  evident  satisfaction,, 
what  I  am  sure  most  persons  will  peruse  with  interest,  many 


vn 

particulars  apparently  more  trivial  than  any  which  I  have  re- 
lated: and  in  his  Rambler,  he  judiciously  observes ;  "The 
business  of  the  biographer  is  to  lead  the  thoughts  into  domes- 
tic privacies,  and  display  the  minute  details  of  daily  life." 

I  should  with  much  pleasure,  agreeably  to  my  own  wish, 
and  to  the  suggestion  of  others,  have  enriched  this  work  with 
a  selection  from  Mr.  Murray's  letters,  or  with  copious  extracts 
from  them :  but  I  am  not  authorized  to  assume  this  privilege. 
On  a  particular  occasion  he  received  an  application  for  leave 
to  publish  some  of  his  letters ;  which,  after  mature  delibera- 
tion, he  declined  giving.  The  subject  was  thus  brought  under 
his  consideration ;  and  in  consequence  he  expressed,  very 
strongly,  both  at  that  time  and  subsequently,  his  wish  and  re- 
quest that  after  his  decease,  none  of  his  letters  should  on  any 
occasion,  or  in  any  manner,  be  published.  And  that  this  re- 
quest might  not  be  forgotten,  nor  his  meaning  misunderstood, 
he  has  left  it  in  writing.  He  never,  I  am  convinced,  wrote  a 
line  of  which  he  had  cause  to  be  ashamed :  but  his  letters, 
though  multifarious,  were  chiefly  on  subjects  of  private  or 
family  business,  or  on  his  literary  concerns ;  or  effusions  writ- 
ten on  the  spur  of  the  moment,  relating  to  incidents  or  occa- 
sions of  a  local  and  temporary  nature. — In  objecting  to  the 
publication  of  his  letters,  he  was  influenced,  not  merely  by 
modesty, Jbut  by  various  considerations. 

Some  years  since,  the  proprietors  of  his  works,  with  great 
liberality,  requested  him  to  allow  them  to  have  his  portrait 
taken  by  an  eminent  artist ;  which  I  am  sorry  to  say,  he  de- 
clined. Several  little  sketches  were  made,  by  various  per- 
sons who  occasionally  visited  him :  but  all  of  these  had  little 
if  any  resemblance  of  him,  except  a  profile,  which  I  have  re- 
ceived through  the  kindness  of  Mr.  Sansom  of  Philadelphia. 
It  was  taken  by  him,  in  1799,  when  he  was  on  a  visit  at  Hold- 
gate  ;  but  it  has  not  yet  been  engraven.  After  Mr.  Murray's 
decease,  several  persons  went  to  view  his  remains :  amongst 
others,  Mr.  Westoby,  a  miniature  painter,  who,  for  his  own 
sntisfaction,  made  a  sketch  of  the  features  of  the  deceased  ; 


via 

from  which  he  afterwards  formed  the  portrait  which  is  now 
annexed  to  this  volume. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  observe  that,  if  any  profit  should 
arise  to  the  editor,  from  the  publication  of  Mr.  Murray's  Me- 
moirs, it  will,  in  conformity  with  his  practice,  be  applied,  like 
that  on  all  his  other  works,  to  charitable  and  benevolent  pur- 
poses. 

I  present  to  the  public  the  Memoirs  which  my  friend  has 
written  of  his  life,  with  a  firm,  but  humble  confidence,  that  they 
will  meet  a  favourable  reception ;  and  that  few  readers  will 
find  any  thing  (o  regret  in  them  but  their  brevity.  They  will 
perhaps  not  be  unacceptable  or  uninteresting,  as  a  correct  and 
pleasing  specimen  of  the  epistolary  style,  and  as  the  last  com- 
position that  will  be  produced  to  the  world,  of  an  esteemed 
and  highly  useful  writer  ;  for  with  respect  to  the  few  manu- 
scripts which  he  has  left,  none  are  prepared,  or  designed,  for^ 
publication ;  and  in  regard  to  his  letters,  his  request  will,  I 
doubt  not,  be  held  sacred.  But  this  little  volume  possesses 
stronger  and  more  important  claims  to  favour  and  approba- 
tion than  any  I  have  yet  mentioned.  To  the  philosopher,  it 
affords  a  striking  instance  of  a  character  formed  to  a  high  de- 
gree of  excellence,  and  rising  into  eminence,  not  by  adventi- 
tious advantages,  but  chiefly  by  its  own  native  energy  and 
exertion;  to  the  moralist,  the  virtuous  principles  which  it  re- 
commends, and  which,  in  some  degree,  it  exemplifies  from  the 
earliest  dawn  of  reason  to  the  latest  period  of  life,  will  doubt- 
less be  highly  gratifying ;  to  the  young,  it  will,  I  trust,  prove 
a  stimulus  to  the  due  improvement  of  their  intellectual  and 
moral  powers,  and  the  dedication  of  them  to  the  glory  of  their 
great  Creator,  and  the  benefit  of  their  fellow-creatures :  and 
on  all,  it  will,  I  hope,  forcibly  inculcate  the  important  lesson  of 
pious  acquiescence  in  the  Divine  Will,  and  the  duty  and  hap- 
piness of  cultivating,  even  under  trying  and  discouraging  cir- 
cumstances, a  contented,  cheerful,  and  benevolent  disposition. 

The  Mount,  York, 
August,  1826, 


N  XV 

p  1 

^ 


A 


MEMOIRS, 


LETTER    I. 


My  dear  Friend, 

I  HAVE  not  forgotten  the  re- 
peated and  urgent  requests  which  have  been 
made  to  me,  to  communicate  some  memoirs  of 
my  life,  especially  of  its  earlier  periods,  for  the 
gratification  of  friendship.  But  a  reluctance  to 
write  so  particularly  on  the  subject  of  myself, 
and  my  own  concerns,  has  hitherto  prevented  me 
from  engaging  in  a  work  of  this  nature.  I  can 
not,  however,  any  longer  refuse  to  comply  with 
a  proposal,  which  is  supported  by  the  soothing 
recommendations  of  esteem  and  regard,  and  by 
a  friendship  which  has  subsisted  between  us  for 

3 


many  years.  But  after  all,  I  am  doubtful 
whether  any  parts  of  such  a  life  as  mine  has 
been,  can  afford  much  satisfaction,  or  answer 
the  expectations  which  may  have  been  formed 
on  the  subject.  Perhaps,  indeed,  when  I  shall 
have  bidden  adieu  to  this  transient  scene,  the 
events  here  recorded,  may  acquire  an  interest, 
which,  at  present,  they  do  not  possess.  If  this 
should  be  the  case,  and  they  should  sometimes 
excite  the  recollection  of  our  friendship,  and 
produce  reflections  of  a  pleasing  or  useful  nature, 
they  will  not  have  been  wholly  written  in  vain. 
With  these  views  then,  I  enter  on  my  little 
history.  And  as  it  will  have  some  advantages,  I 
shall  form  the  narrative  into  a  series  of  familiar 
letters. 

It  is  always  a  delicate  point  to  speak,  or  to 
write,  properly,  concerning  one's  self.  But  as  I 
have  been  persuaded  to  undertake  a  work  in- 
volving  this  difficulty,  I  must  accommodate 
myself  to  it,  as  well  as  I  am  able.  Being  at  once 
the  subject  and  the  narrator,  it  will  not  be  pos- 
sible to  prevent  a  very  frequent  recurrence  of 
the  obnoxious  pronoun.  I  will,  however,  study  so 
to  conduct  this  biographical  sketch,  as  to  avoid 
every  species  of  undue  self  prominence,  as  well 
as  to  repress  whatever  may  be  considered  as  false 
delicacy.  If  I  should  sometimes  err,  in  prose- 
cuting these  intentions,  I  have  no  doubt  the  veil 


s 

of  indulgence  and  friendship  will  be  thrown  over 
my  imperfections. 

I  was  born  in  the  year  1745,  at  Swetara,  near 
Lancaster,  in  the  state  of  Pennsylvania.  My 
parents  were  of  respectable  characters,  and  in 
the  middle  station  of  life.  My  father  possessed 
a  good  flour  mill  at  Swetara:  but  being  of  an 
enterprising  spirit,  and  anxious  to  provide  hand- 
somely for  his  family,  he  made  several  voyages 
to  the  West  Indies,  in  the  way  of  trade,  by  which 
he  considerably  augmented  his  property.  Pur- 
suing his  inclinations,  he,  in  time,  acquired  large 
possessions,  and  became  one  of  the  most  re- 
spectable merchants  in  America. 

In  the  pursuit  of  business,  he  was  steady  and 
indefatigable.  During  the  middle  period  of  his 
life,  he  had  extensive  concerns  in  ships ;  and  was 
engaged  in  a  variety  of  other  mercantile  affairs. 
But  this  great  and  multifarious  employment, 
never  appeared  to  agitate  or  oppress  his  mind : 
he  was  distinguished  for  equanimity  and  compo- 
sure. And  I  have  often  heard  it  remarked,  that 
by  his  conversation  and  deportment,  no  person 
would  have  imagined,  that  he  had  such  a  weight 
of  care  upon  him.  When  in  the  company  of  his 
friends,  he  was  so  thoroughly  unbent,  that  per. 
sons  unacquainted  with  the  nature  and  variety 
of  his  business,  might  naturally  suppose  that  he 
had  very  little  employment.  This  trait  may  be 


justly  considered  as  an  evidence  of  strong  pow- 
ers of  mind.  These  had  been  cultivated  by  atten- 
tion to  business,  and  by  much  intercourse  with 
the  world.  But  my  father  did  not  possess  the 
advantages  of  a  liberal  education;  by  which  his 
talents  and  virtues  might  have  been  still  more 
extensively  useful. 

My  mother  was  a  woman  of  an  amiable  dispo- 
sition, and  remarkable  for  mildness,  humanity, 
and  liberality  of  sentiment.  She  was  indeed,  a 
faithful  and  affectionate  wife,  a  tender  mother, 
and  a  kind  mistress.  I  recollect  with  emotions 
of  affection  and  gratitude,  her  unwearied  solici- 
tude for  my  health  and  happiness.  This  excel- 
lent mother  died  some  years  after  I  had  been 
settled  in  life.  And  though  I  had  cause  to 
mourn  for  the  loss  of  her,  yet  I  had  reason  to  be 
thankful  to  Divine  Providence,  that  I  had  been 
blessed  with  her  for  so  long  a  period,  and  par- 
ticularly through  the  dangerous  seasons  of  child- 
hood and  youth. 

Both  my  parents,  who  belonged  to  the  society 
of  Friends,  were  concerned  to  promote  the  re- 
ligious welfare  of  their  children.  They  often 
gave  us  salutary  admonition,  and  trained  us  up 
to  attend  the  public  worship  of  God.  The  Holy 
Scriptures  were  read  in  the  family:  a  duty  which, 
when  regularly  and  devoutly  performed,  must 
be  fraught  with  the  most  beneficial  effects.  I 


recollect  being,  at  one  time,  in  a  situation  of  the 
room,  where  I  observed  that  my  father,  on  read- 
ing these  inspired  volumes  to  us,  was  so  much 
affected  as  to  shed  tears.  This,  which  I  suppose 
was  frequently  the  case,  made  a  pleasing  and 
profitable  impression  on  my  young  mind,  which 
I  have  often  remembered  with  peculiar  satisfac- 
tion.— Our  family  was  rather  numerous.  My 
parents  had  twelve  children,  of  whom  I  was  the 
eldest.  But  the  course  of  time  has  reduced  us 
to  a  small  number.  At  the  present  period,  (the 
summer  of  1806,)  only  four  of  us  remain. 

That  activity  of  body,  for  which  I  was  re- 
markable in  youth  and  mature  life,  commenced 
at  an  early  age.*  When  I  was  only  nine  months 

*  The  first  months  of  the  author's  life  afforded  no  promise 
either  of  bodily  or  mental  vigour.  Till  he  was  about  half  a  year 
old,  he  was  almost  perpetually  crying.  His  countenance  gave  no 
indication  of  intelligence.  His  mother  was  little  aware  of  the 
comfort  which  she  should  afterwards  receive  from  him,  and  of 
the  honourable  distinction  which  awaited  him.  She  often  said, 
that  if,  at  that  time,  Providence  had  been  pleased  to  take  away 
her  first-born,  she  should  have  thought  the  dispensation  mer- 
ciful, both  to  the  poor  little  infant  and  its  parents.  But  after 
that  period,  his  health  gradually  improved;  and  his  strength, 
spirit,  and  activity,  exceeded  his  age.  From  various  accounts, 
and  from  many  little  anecdotes,,  which  I  have  heard,  I  can  not 
but  conclude,  that  his  childhood  and  youth  were  lovely  ;  and 
formed  a  natural  and  beautiful  prelude  to  the  wisdom,  piety, 
and  benevolence.,  which  his  advanced  years  exhibited.  Though 


old,  I  frequently  escaped,  as  I  have  been  in- 
formed, from  the  care  of  the  family ;  and,  un- 
noticed by  them,  made  my  way  from  the  house 
to  the  mill,  which  were  more  than  a  hundred 
yards  distant  from  each  other.  As  soon  as  I 
could  run  about,  I  proved  to  be,  not  only  an 
active,  but  a  mischievous  child.  I  played  many 
tricks,  which  did  not  denote  the  best  disposition, 
and  which  gave  a  wrong  bias  to  my  vivacity. 
This  perverse  turn  of  mind  might  have  been 
checked  in  the  bud,  if  it  had  received  suitable, 
early  correction. 

But  I  had  a  very  fond  grandmother,  with 
whom  I  was  a  great  favourite,  and  who  often 
protected  me  from  proper  chastisement,  when 
I  richly  deserved  it.  This  indulgence  gave  full 
scope  to  my  propensities;  and  prevented,  for  a 
time,  that  happy  restraint,  which  is  of  so  much 
importance  to  the  disposition  and  habits  of  chil- 
dren, and  which  has  so  much  influence  on  their 
happiness  through  life.  The  irregular  vivacity 


from  his  extraordinary  vivacity,  and  exuberance  of  spirits, 
fee  was  inclined  to  playfulness,  and  frolic,  and,  at  times,  to  some 
degree  of  mischievousness  ;  yet  he  possessed  every  quality 
that  can  adorn  that  period  of  life  :  activity  of  body  and  mind  ; 
an  ardent  desire  for  knowledge ;  docility  in  submitting  to 
superior  reason ;  a  mild,  obliging  temper  ;  a  heart,  grateful, 
aflectionate,  and  highly  susceptible  of  religious  feelings. 

EDITOR. 


which  I  possessed,  received,  however,  a  very  sal- 
utary control,  by  my  being  afterwards  placed 
under  the  care  of  a  discreet  and  sensible  aunt, 
who  was  determined  to  bring  me  into  some  de- 
gree of  order  and  submission.  The  great  indul- 
gence with  which  I  had  been  treated,  must  have 
rendered  the  contest  rather  severe :  for,  on  a 
particular  occasion,  I  embraced  the  opportunity 
of  getting  out  of  a  window,  and  running  about 
on  the  roof  of  a  small  tenement;  which  was, 
however,  so  high,  that  a  fall  would  have  endan- 
gered my  life.  My  aunt  was  in  great  distress  ; 
and  I  believe  endeavoured,  but  in  vain,  to  in- 
fluence my  fears,  and,  by  this  means,  induce  me 
to  return.  I  moved  about  for  a  while,  in  this 
perilous  situation,  and  probably  enjoyed  my  tem- 
porary independence.  She,  at  last,  with  great 
prudence,  entreated  me  very  tenderly  to  come  to 
her.  But  though  this  affected  me,  I  did  not 
comply  till  I  had  obtained  her  promise,  that  I 
should  not  be  corrected.  She  kept  her  word; 
but  I  think  she  did  not  relax,  in  any  degree,  the 
general  rigour  of  her  discipline  towards  me.  I 
was  at  length  completely  subdued,  arid  brought 
into  regular  ohedience :  and  this  event  proved 
comfortable  to  myself,  as  well  as  relieving  to 
every  one  that  had  any  care  of  me.  To  this 
good  aunt  I  am  under  particular  obligations. 
Her  wise  and  salutary  management,  may  have 


8 

prepared  me  for  many  enjoyments,  and  prevent- 
ed many  miseries  of  life. 

At  an  early  period,  about  my  sixth  or  seventh 
year,  I  was  sent  to  the  city  of  Philadelphia,  that 
I  might  have  the  advantage  of  a  better  school 
than  the  country  afforded.  I  well  remember 
being  some  time  at  the  academy  of  Philadel- 
phia; the  English  department  of  which  was  then 
conducted  by  the  truly  respectable  Ebenezer 
Kinnersley.  He  exercised  great  care  over  his 
pupils,  and  from  what  I  recollect  of  this  in- 
structer  of  youth,  and  what  I  have  read  of  him, 
I  have  reason  to  regret,  that  my  continuance  in 
that  seminary  was  of  short  duration.  I  remem- 
ber to  have  read  there  with  pleasure,  even  at  that 
age,  some  passages  in  "  The  Travels  of  Cyrus;" 
and  to  have  been  agreeably  exercised  in  the 
business  of  parsing  sentences. 

From  this  academy  I  was  taken,  to  accom- 
pany my  parents  to  North  Carolina.  My  father 
conceived,  that  some  commercial  advantages 
would  attend  a  temporary  residence  in  that  pro- 
vince. When  I  first  landed  there,  I  was  much 
delighted  with  roving  about,  after  a  long  con- 
finement on  ship  board.  In  one  of  these  little 
excursions,  I  found  a  few  shillings ;  which  were 
readily  expended  in  some  loaves  of  bread,  for 
the  refreshment  of  the  sailors.  These  people  had 
been  kind  to  me,  during  the  voyage;  and  I 


could  not,  therefore,  think  of  any  more  pleasing 
application  of  my  treasure,  than  in  treating  them 
with  some  excellent  fresh  bread.  Their  grateful 
acceptance,  and  enjoyment,  of  this  little  gift, 
was  doubtless  a  rich  reward  for  my  attention  to 
them. 

In  the  year  1753,  my  father  left  Carolina-, 
and,  with  his  family,  settled  at  New-York.  In 
this  city,  I  was  placed  at  a  good  school,  in  which 
I  made  the  usual  progress  of  young  learners. 
Being  extremely  fond  of  play,  I  believe  I  rarely 
neglected  any  opportunity  of  indulging  this  pro- 
pensity. At  the  times  of  vacation,  I  generally 
enjoyed  myself  with  diversions,  till  the  period  for 
returning  to  school  approached.  I  then  applied 
myself  vigorously  to  the  task  that  had  been  pre- 
viously assigned  me ;  and  I  do  not  recollect  that 
I  ever  failed  to  perform  it,  to  the  satisfaction  of 
my  teacher.  A  heedless  boy,  I  was  far  from 
reflecting,  how  much  more  prudent  it  would 
have  been,  if  I  had,  in  the  first  place,  secured  the 
lesson,  and  afterwards  indulged  myself  in  my 
playful  pursuits.  These  would  not  then  have 
been  interrupted,  by  uneasy  reflections  on  the 
subject  of  my  task,  or  by  a  consciousness  of  un- 
warrantable negligence. — Sometimes  I  absented 
myself  from  school,  to  enjoy  a  greater  degree  of 
play  and  amusement.  During  these  pleasures, 
the  idea  of  impending  correction,  would  occa- 

4 


10 

sionally  come  across  my  mind :  but  I  resolutely 
repelled  it,  as  an  intruder  which  would  unneces- 
sarily imbitter  my  present  enjoyment.  I  con- 
cluded that  if  I  must  be  corrected,  I  would  not 
lose  the  pleasure  I  then  had :  and  I  gave  full 
scope  to  my  diversions.  Had  I  allowed  myself 
proper  time  to  consider  consequences,  I  might 
have  prevented  both  the  disgrace  and  the  pain 
of  punishment,  as  well  as  that  degree  of  insen- 
sibility to  dishonourable  action,  which  such  fear- 
less irregularities  are  apt  to  produce. 

About  this  period,  a  very  happy  impression 
was  made  upon  my  mind,  by  a  piece  which  was 
given  me  to  write,  and  in  the  performance  of 
which  I  had  to  exhibit  a  specimen  of  my  best 
hand  writing.  The  sheet  was  decorated  round 
its  edges  with  a  number  of  pleasing  figures,  dis- 
played with  taste  and  simplicity.  In  the  centre, 
my  performance  was  to  be  contained.  This  was 
a  transcript  of  the  visit  and  salutation  of  the 
angels  to  the  shepherds,  near  Bethlehem,  who 
were  tending  their  flocks  by  night.  The  beauty 
of  the  sheet ;  the  property  I  was  to  have  in  it ; 
and  the  distinction  which  I  expected  from  per- 
forming the  work  in  a  handsome  manner ;  pre- 
pared my  mind  for  relishing  the  solemn  narra- 
tive and  the  interesting  language  of  the  angels 
to  the  shepherds.  I  was  highly  pleased  with  the 
whole.  The  impression  was  so  strong  and  de- 


il 

lightful,  that  it  has  often  occurred  to  me,  through 
life,  with  great  satisfaction;  and,  at  this  hour,  it 
is  remembered  with  pleasure.  The  passage  has 
scarcely  ever  been  read  by  me,  without  emotions 
of  an  interesting  nature.  Independently  of  the 
attractive  circumstances  which  I  have  depicted, 
the  narrative  and  message  are,  indeed,  most 
important  and  affecting  to  every  serious  mind. — 
If  parents  and  others  who  have  the  care  of  young- 
persons,  would  be  studious  to  seize  occasions  of 
presenting  the  Holy  Scriptures  to  them,  under 
favourable  and  inviting  points  of  view,  it  would 
probably  be  attended  with  the  happiest  effects.  A 
veneration  for  these  sacred  volumes,  and  a  pleas- 
ure in  perusing  them,  may  be  excited  by  agreea- 
able  and  interesting  associations ;  and  these  im- 
pressions, thus  early  made,  there  is  reason  to  be- 
lieve, would  accompany  the  mind  through  the 
whole  of  life:  a  consideration  which  is  of  the  ut- 
most importance. 

But  though  I  might  sometimes  be  disposed,  at 
this  period  of  life,  to  think  and  to  act  properly, 
I  was  often  impelled  by  inclinations  of  a  very 
different  nature.  I  had  a  curious  propensity  to 
discover  and  observe  the  natural  dispositions  of 
animals.  And  this  curiosity  was,  in  some  in- 
stances, so  strong  as  to  make  me  overlook  the 
uneasiness  which,  by  teasing  them,  was  occa- 
sioned to  the  animals  themselves.  I  was  not 


12 

naturally  of  a  cruel  disposition ;  but  was  rather 
pleased  to  see  the  animal  creation  about  me, 
enjoy  themselves.  The  propensity  I  have  men- 
tioned was,  however,  sometimes  unwarrantably 
indulged:  so  much  so,  as  to  mark  a  depraved 
turn  of  mind,  which,  even  now,  gives  me  pain  to 
recollect. — I  ought  to  have  reflected,  that  all 
animals  have  assigned  to  them  by  the  Author  of 
nature,  a  pleasurable  existence  ;  and  that  it  is 
our  duty  to  second  his  intention,  as  we  have 
opportunity;  and  especially  to  avoid  all  occa- 
sions of  inflicting  upon  them  unnecessary  pain. 
An  additional  excitement  to  this  duty,  is,  that 
whilst  we  encourage  a  disposition  to  promote  the 
pleasures,  or  increase  the  pains,  of  the  animals 
which  surround  us,  we  are  cherishing  the  general 
spirit  of  benevolence,  or  its  contrary ;  which  will 
naturally  be  extended  towards  our  fellow. crea- 
tures. In  this  point  of  view,  it  is  of  very  great 
importance  to  cultivate,  in  young  persons  espe- 
cially, proper  dispositions  and  conduct  towards 
the  creatures  endued  with  animal  life. 

The  unwarrantable  curiosity  which  I  have  just 
mentioned,  continued  to  operate, in  some  degree, 
for  many  years;  and,  occasionally,  showed  itself 
long  after  I  was  grown  up.  I  recollect  a  par- 
ticular instance  of  it,  which  was  very  near 
proving  fatal  to  me ;  and  which,  though  a  little 
out  of  the  course  of  my  narrative,  may  not 


13 

improperly  be  related  in  this  place.     As  nearly 
as  1  can  recollect,  the  incident  was  as  follows. 

When  I  was  in  England,  in  the  year  1771, 1 
went  to  see  the  elephants,  which  were  kept  at 
the  Queen's  stables,  Buckingham-house.  Whilst 
I  was  gratifying  myself  with  observing  the  huge 
creatures,  and  their  various  actions  and  pecu- 
liarities, I  took  occasion  to  withdraw  from  one  of 
them  a  part  of  the  hay,  which  he  was  collecting 
on  the  floor  with  his  proboscis.  I  did  this  with  my 
cane;  and  watched  the  animal  very  narrowly,  to 
prevent  a  stroke  from  him,  which  I  had  reason 
to  expect.  The  keeper  said  that  I  had  greatly 
displeased  the  elephant,  and  that  he  would  never 
forget  the  injury.  I  thought  but  little  of  this 
admonition,  at  the  time.  But  about  six  weeks 
afterwards,  when  I  accompanied  some  other 
persons,  on  a  visit  to  the  elephants,  I  found  that, 
though  probably  several  hundred  people  had 
been  there  since  my  preceding  visit,  the  animal 
soon  recognised  me.  I  did  not  attempt  to  mo- 
lest or  tease  him  at  all ;  and  1  had  no  concep- 
tion of  any  concealed  resentment.  On  a  sudden, 
however,  when  I  was  supposed  to  be  within  the 
reach  of  his  proboscis,  he  threw  it  towards  me 
with  such  violence,  that  if  it  had  struck  me,  1 
should  probably  have  been  killed,  or  have  re. 
ceived  some  material  injury.  Happily  for  me,  1 
perceived  his  intention,  and  being  very  active,  I 


14 

sprung  out  of  his  reach.  To  every  other  person 
present,  he  was  gentle  and  good-tempered ;  and 
his  enmity  to  me  arose,  as  the  keeper  declared, 
solely  from  the  circumstance  of  the  little  affront 
which  I  had  formerly  put  upon  him. — This  in- 
cident made  some  impression  upon  me ;  and  per- 
haps contributed  to  subdue  a  curiosity,  which 
could  not  be  gratified  but  at  the  expense  of  the 
feelings  of  others. 

It  is  now  time  to  make  a  pause  in  the  narra- 
tive. My  next  letter  will  pursue  it,  from  the 
period  of  my  leaving  school,  and  being  trained 
to  business. 

I  am  affectionately,  £c. 


15 


LETTER    II. 


My  dear  Friend, 

IT  is  doubtless  of  great  im- 
portance to  the  interest  and  happiness  of  young 
persons,  as  well  as  of  some  consequence  to  their 
friends  and  the  public,  that  their  inclinations, 
genius,  and  bodily  constitutions,  should  be  con- 
sulted, when  they  are  to  be  entered  on  an  em- 
ployment, which  will  probably  continue  for  life. 
If  the  bent  of  their  mind  and  other  qualifica- 
tions, are  duly  regarded,  success  may  reasonably 
be  expected:  if  they  are  opposed,  the  progress 
must  be  slow,  and  the  ultimate  attainments  very 
limited. 

At  an  early  age,  I  was  placed  in  the  counting 
house  of  my  father,  who  was  desirous  of  train- 
ing me  to  the  mercantile  profession.  I  did  not, 
however,  relish  this  employ,  and  the  confinement 
to  which  it  subjected  me.  I  wished  to  be  any 
thing  rather  than  a  merchant.  And  this  per- 
haps may  be  accounted  for,  by  the  strictness 
with  which  I  was  kept  to  business,  and  the 
undue  restraints  as  I  conceived,  which  were  put, 


16 

at  that  early  period,  on  my  lively  spirits  and 
allowable  indulgences.  My  father  kept  steady 
to  his  purpose.  He  probably  thought  that  my 
dislike  to  the  business  would,  in  time,  abate. 
He  sent  me  to  Philadelphia,  influenced,  perhaps, 
by  a  hope,  that  a  residence  with  a  merchant  at  a 
distance  from  home,  would  better  reconcile  me 
to  the  employment.  But  this  expedient  did  not 
answer  his  expectations ;  and,  after  some  time, 
he  consented  to  my  return  to  New-York. 

About  this  period,  I  contracted  a  taste  for  read- 
ing, and  a  desire  for  a  greater  degree  of  literary 
improvement.  The  pleasures  of  study,  and  the 
advantages  and  distinctions,  which  learning  and 
knowledge  had  conferred  on  individuals  who 
fell  under  my  observation,  augmented  my  wishes 
for  the  acquisition  of  science  and  literature. — 
Another  experiment  was,  however,  made  to  re- 
concile me  to  a  mercantile  life.  My  father 
presented  me  with  a  considerable  number  of 
silver  watches,  which  he  designed  as  a  little 
trading  stock;  and  which  he  had  just  imported, 
with  many  other  articles,  from  England.  By 
having  the  property  of  these  watches,  and  by  the 
prospect  of  increasing  that  property  on  the  sale  of 
them,  and  thus  extending  my  concerns,  in  fresh 
purchases  with  the  product,  I  began  to  relish  the 
occupation.  The  spirit  of  trading  took  hold  of 
me;  and  1  contemplated  with  pleasure,  the 


17 

future  enlargement  of  my  funds.  In  short,  I 
entered  into  the  business  with  ardour  and  satis- 
faction. At  the  same  time  I  continued  in  my 
father's  counting  house ;  and  occasionally  assisted 
in  the  routine  of  his  commercial  affairs. — I  doubt 
not,  that  he  surveyed  this  success  of  his  schemes 
for  my  advantage,  with  peculiar  complacency. 
But  riot  long  after  the  commencement  of  my 
trading  engagements,  an  incident  occurred,  which 
seemed  to  blast  all  his  expectations,  and  to 
threaten  the  most  serious  consequences  to  myself. 

I  have  sometimes  hesitated,  respecting  the 
propriety  of  cbmmunicating  this  little  piece  of 
my  history.  But  as  it  is  intimately  connected 
with  events  of  this  period,  and  contains  some 
traits  of  disposition  and  character  in  early  life, 
I  have  at  length  concluded  to  relinquish  my 
scruples  on  this  subject.  The  following  is  the 
occurrence  to  which  I  allude. 

Though  my  father,  as  the  events  already  men- 
tioned demonstrate,  had  an  earnest  desire  to 
promote  my  interest  and  happiness,  yet  he 
appeared  to  me,  in  some  respects,  and  on 
some  occasions,  rather  too  rigorous.  Among 
other  regulations,  he  had,  with  true  parental 
prudence,  given  me  general  directions  not  to 
leave  the  house,  in  an  evening,  without  previ- 
ously obtaining  his  approbation.  I  believe  that 
his  permission  was  generally  and  readily  pro- 

5 


18 

cured.  But  a  particular  instance  occurred,  in 
which,  on  account  of  his  a.bsence,  I  could  not 
apply  to  him.  I  was  invited  by  an  uncle  to 
spend  the  evening  with  him;  and  trusting  to 
this  circumstance,  and  to  the  respectability  of  my 
company,  I  ventured  to  break  the  letter,  though 
I  thought  not  the  spirit,  of  the  injunction 
which  had  been  laid  upon  me.  The  next 
morning,  I  was  taken  by  my  father,  into  a 
private  apartment,  and  remonstrated  with  for  my 
disobedience.  In  vain  were  my  apologies.  No- 
thing that  I  could  offer,  was  considered  as  an 
extenuation  of  my  having  broken  a  plain  and 
positive  command.  In  short,  1  received  a  very 
severe  chastisement ;  and  was  threatened  with  a 
repetition  of  it,  for  every  similar  offence.  Being 
a  lad  of  some  spirit,  I  felt  very  indignant  at  such 
treatment,  under  circumstances  which,  as  I  con- 
ceived, admitted  of  so  much  alleviation.  I  could 
not  bear  it ;  and  I  resolved  to  leave  my  father's 
house,  and  seek  in  a  distant  country,  what  I 
conceived  to  be  an  asylum,  or  a  better  fortune. 
Young  and  ardent,  I  did  not  want  confidence  in 
my  own  powers;  and  I  presumed  that,  with  health 
and  strength  which  I  possessed  in  a  superior  de- 
gree, I  could  support  myself,  and  make  my  way 
happily  through  life.  I  meditated  on  my  plan  ; 
and  came  to  the  resolution  of  taking  my  books 
and  all  my  property  with  me,  to  a  town  in  the  in- 


19 

terior  of  the  country;  where  1  had  understood 
there  was  an  excellent  seminary,  kept  by  a  man 
of  distinguished  talents  and  learning.  Here  I 
purposed  to  remain,  till  I  had  learned  the  French 
language,  which  I  thought  would  be  of  great  use 
to  me ;  and  till  I  had  acquired  as  much  other 
improvement  as  my  funds  would  admit.  With 
this  stock  of  knowledge,  I  presumed  that  I 
should  set  out  in  life  under  much  greater  ad- 
vantages, than  I  should  possess  by  entering 
immediately  into  business,  with  my  small  por- 
tion of  property,  and  great  inexperience.  I  was 
then  about  fourteen  years  of  age.  My  views 
being  thus  arranged,  I  procured  a  new  suit  of 
clothes,  entirely  different  from  those  which  I  had 
been  accustomed  to  wear,  packed  up  my  little 
all  and  left  the  city,  without  exciting  any  suspi- 
cion of  my  design,  till  it  was  too  late  to  prevent 
its  accomplishment. 

In  a  short  time  I  arrived  at  the  place  of  desti- 
nation. I  settled  myself  immediately  as  a 
boarder  in  the  seminary,  and  commenced  my 
studies.  The  prospect  which  I  entertained  was 
so  luminous  and  cheering,  that,  on  the  whole,  I 
did  not  regret  the  part  I  had  acted.  Past  recol- 
lections and  future  hopes  combined  to  animate 
me.  The  chief  uneasiness  which  I  felt  in  my 
present  situation,  must  have  arisen  from  the  re- 
flection of  having  lost  the  society  and  attentions 


20 

of  a  most  affectionate  mother,  and  of  having  oc- 
casioned sorrow  to  her  feeling  mind.     But  as  I 
had  passed  the   Rubicon,  and  believed  I  could 
not  be  comfortable  at  home,  I  contented  myself 
•with  the  thought,  that  the  pursuit  of  the  objects 
before  me,  was  better  calculated  than  any  other, 
to  produce  my  happiness.     In  this  quiet  retreat, 
I  had  as  much  enjoyment  as  my  circumstances 
were  adapted  to  convey.    The  pleasure  of  study, 
and  the  glow  of  a  fond  imagination,  brightened 
the  scenes  around  me.  And  the  consciousness  of 
a  state  of  freedom  and  independence,  undoubted- 
ly contributed  to  augment  my  gratifications,  and 
to  animate  my  youthful  heart.     But  my  continu- 
ance  in   this   delightful   situation,   was  not   of 
long  duration.     Circumstances  of  an  apparently 
trivial  nature,  concurred  to  overturn  the  visiona- 
ry fabric  I  had  formed,  and  to  bring  rne  again 
to  the  paternal  roof. 

I  had  a  particular  friend,  a  youth  about  my 
own  age,  who  resided  at  Philadelphia.  I  wished 
to  pay  him  a  short  visit,  and  then  resume  my 
studies.  We  met  according  to  appointment,  at 
an  inn  on  the  road.  I  enjoyed  his  society,  and 
communicated  to  him  my  situation  and  views. 
But  before  I  returned  to  my  retreat,  an  occur- 
rence took  place  which  occasioned  me  to  go  to 
Philadelphia.  When  I  was  about  to  leave  that 
city,  as  I  passed  through  one  of  the  streets,  I 


21 

met  a  gentleman  who  had  some  time  before 
dined  at  my  father's  house.  He  expressed  great 
pleasure  on  seeing  me  ;  and  inquired  when  I 
expected  to  leave  the  city.  I  told  him  I  was 
then  on  the  point  of  setting  off  He  thought 
the  occasion  very  fortunate  for  him.  He  had 
just  been  with  a  letter  to  the  post-office;  but 
found  that  he  was  too  late.  The  letter,  he  said^ 
was  of  importance ;  and  he  begged  that  I  woult 
deliver  it  with  my  own  hand,  and  as  soon  as  v 
arrived  at  New-York,  to  the  person  for  whom  i 
was  directed.  Surprised  by  the  request,  and  un- 
willing to  state  to  him  my  situation,  I  engaged 
to  take  good  care  of  the  letter. 

My  new  residence  was  at  Burlington,  about 
twenty  miles  from  Philadelphia.  I  travelled 
towards  it  rather  pensive,  and  uncertain  what 
plan  to  adopt  respecting  the  letter.  I  believe 
that  I  sometimes  thought  of  putting  it  into  the 
post-office;  sometimes,  of  hiring  a  person  to 
deliver  it.  But  the  confidence  which  had  been 
reposed  in  me;  the  importance  of  the  trust;  and 
my  tacit  engagement  to  deliver  it  personally; 
operated  so  powerfully  on  my  mind,  that  after 
I  had  rode  a  few  miles,  I  determined,  whatever 
risk  and  expense  I  might  incur,  to  hire  a  carriage 
for  the  purpose,  to  go  to  New-York  as  speedily 
as  possible,  deliver  the  letter,  and  return  imme- 
diately. My  design,  so  far  as  it  respected  the 


22 

charge  of  the  letter,  was  completely  accom- 
plished. I  delivered  it,  according  to  the  direc- 
tion, and  my  own  engagement.  I  was,  however, 
obliged  to  remain  in  New-York  that  night,  a» 
the  packet  boat,  in  which  I  had  crossed  the  bay, 
.could  riot  sail  till  the  next  morning.  This  was 
a  mortifying  circumstance,  as  I  wished  to  return 
very  expeditiously.  The  delay  was,  however,  un- 
avoidable. I  put  up  at  an  inn,  near  the  wharf 
from  which  the  packet  was  to  sail  in  the  morning, 
and  waited  for  that  period  with  some  anxiety. 

I  thought  I  had  conducted  my  business  with 
so  much  caution,  that  no  one  acquainted  with 
me,  had  known  of  my  being  in  the  city.  I  had, 
however,  been  noticed  by  some  person  who  knew 
me;  and,  in  the  evening,  to  my  great  surprise, 
my  uncle,  whom  I  have  mentioned  before,  paid 
me  a  visit.  He  treated  me  affectionately,  and 
with  much  prudent  attention ;  and,  after  some 
time,  strenuously  urged  me  to  go  with  him  to 
my  father's  house :  but  I  firmly  refused  to  com- 
ply with  his  request.  At  length  he  told  me, 
that  my  mother  was  greatly  distressed  on  account 
of  my  absence;  and  that  I  should  be  unkind  and 
undutiful,  if  I  did  not  see  her.  This  made  a 
strong  impression  upon  me.  I  resolved,  there- 
fore, to  spend  a  short  time  with  her,  and  then 
return  to  my  lodgings.  The  meeting  which  I 
had  with  my  dear  and  tender  parent  was  truly 


23 

affecting  to  me.  Every  thing  that  passed,  evinced 
the  great  affection  she  had  for  me,  and  the  sor- 
row into  which  my  departure  from  home  had 
plunged  her.  After  I  had  been  some  time  in 
the  house,  my  father  unexpectedly  came  in : 
and  my  embarrassment,  under  these  circum- 
stances, may  easily  be  conceived.  It  was,  how- 
ever, instantly  removed,  by  his  approaching  me 
in  the  most  affectionate  manner.  He  saluted 
me  very  tenderly ;  and  expressed  great  satisfac- 
tion on  seeing  me  again.  Every  degree  of  re- 
sentment was  immediately  dissipated.  I  felt 
myself  happy,  in  perceiving  the  pleasure  which 
my  society  could  afford  to  persons  so  intimately 
connected  with  me,  and  to  whom  I  was  so  much 
indebted,  We  spent  the  evening  together  in 
love  and  harmony :  and  I  abandoned  entirely, 
without  a  moment's  hesitation,  the  idea  of  leav- 
ing a  house  arid  family,  which  were  now  dearer 
to  me  than  ever. 

The  next  day,  a  person  was  sent  to  the  place 
of  my  retreat,  to  settle  all  accounts,  and  to  bring 
back  my  property.  I  was  taken  into  still  greater 
favour  than  formerly;  and  was  never  reproached 
by  my  parents,  for  the  trouble  and  anxiety  whieh 
I  had  brought  upon  them.  My  father  probably 
perceived  that  I  felt  sufficiently  on  the  occasion; 
and  he  was,  perhaps,  conscious,  that  the  disci- 
pline he  had  exerted,  was  not  altogether  justi- 


24 

fiable. — When  I  reflect  on  this  rash  and  impru- 
dent adventure;  on  the  miseries  in  which  it 
might  have  involved  me;  and  on  the  singular 
manner  in  which  I  was  restored  to  the  bosom  of 
my  family;  I  cannot  avoid  seeing  the  hand  of 
Divine  Providence  in  my  preservation;  and 
feeling  that  I  ought  to  be  humbly  and  deeply 
thankful  for  the  gracious  interposition. 

Before  I  quit  this  subject,  I  must  observe, 
that  soon  after  I  had  left  home,  inquiries  were 
made  to  discover  the  place  to  which  I  had  re- 
treated.  I  knew  that  this  was  the  case :  but  I 
had  made  up  my  mind  not  to  return,  and  subject 
myself  again  to  a  treatment  which  I  had  felt  to 
be  improper  and  unmerited.  I  therefore  declined 
all  the  proposals  and  entreaties  of  individuals 
who  were  friends  to  the  family,  and  who  endea- 
voured to  shake  the  resolutions  I  had  formed. 
And  I  am  persuaded  that,  at  this  period,  nothing 
would  have  induced  me  to  relinquish  them,  but 
a  security  against  the  repetition  of  the  harsh  dis- 
cipline which  I  had  experienced.  I  rejoice, 
however,  that  a  train  of  events  so  unexpected, 
and  so  contrary  to  my  fixed  purposes,  happily 
brought  me  again  to  the  paternal  mansion,  and 
settled  me  safely  under  its  protection. 

A  short  time  after  I  had  returned  to  my 
father's  family,  I  solicited  the  privilege  of  having 
a  private  tutor,  to  instruct  me  in  classical  knowl- 


25 

edge  and  liberal  studies.  With  this  request, 
my  father  very  generously  complied.  A  tutor 
of  talents  and  learning,  was  procured  for  me : 
and  I  pursued  this  new  career  with  great  alacrity 
of  mind.  I  sat  up  late,  and  rose  early,  in  the 
prosecution  of  my  studies.  In  the  cold  season 
of  the  year,  I  had  fuel  brought  at  night  into  my 
study,  that  I  might  have  it  ready  for  kindling 
a  fire  at  the  time  of  rising,  which  was  frequently 
before  daylight.  My  tutor  was  very  attentive, 
and  gave  me  great  encouragement  to  persevere. 
He  stimulated  my  application,  by  portraying 
the  advantages  of  science,  and  by  the  commen- 
dations which  he  bestowed  on  my  progress. 
This  close  attention  to  study,  and  confinement 
to  the  house,  did  not,  however,  agree  with  my 
constitution.  My  sickly  hue  proclaimed  the  in- 
tenseness  of  my  application.  I  found  it  neces- 
sary, therefore,  to  abate  the  ardency  of  my  pur- 
suit, and  to  intermix  bodily  exercise  with  my 
studies.  This  procedure  had  a  happy  effect.  I 
continued  regularly  employed  in  my  literary  oc- 
cupation, and  could  not  but  be  pleased  with  the 
advancement  I  had  made,  with  the  augmentation 
of  knowledge,  and  the  improvement  of  my  men- 
tal powers. 

It  is,  however,  proper  to  observe,  that  my  at- 
tainments under  this  tutor,  were  very  limited. 
They  served  indeed  to  improve  my  taste,  and 

6 


26 

increase  my  desire,  for  learning  and  knowledge. 
But  this  taste  and  desire,  were  not,  at  any  future 
period  of  life,  accompanied  by  that  ardour  and 
steadiness  of  pursuit,  which  often  ensure  great 
success :  and  my  stock  of  knowledge  and  litera- 
ry improvement  has,  consequently,  been  always 
far  from  extensive* 

Though  I  was  a  youth  of  great  vivacity,  and, 
by  my  imprudence  and  love  of  pleasure,  I  had 
been  led  into  many  follies  and  transgressions ; 
yet  I  always  entertained  a  high  opinion  of  the 
enjoyments  which  piety  and  virtue  bestow ;  and 
I  venerated  the  character  of  those  whom  I 
deemed  to  be  truly  religious.  Such  was  my 
opinion  of  their  attainments  and  happiness,  that 
I  probably  conceived  them  to  be  more  exempt 
from  trouble,  and  more  raised  above  the  anxieties 
of  life,  than  they  really  were.  I  knew  not  the 
trials  of  their  virtue ;  the  continual  watchfulness 
necessary  to  resist  temptations  ;  their  affliction 
on  viewing  the  crimes  and  lapses  of  their  fellow- 
creatures;  their  sorrowful  recollection  of  their 
own  past  offences,  joined  to  the  sense  of  much 
remaining  imperfection;  and  their  solicitude, 
lest,  amidst  the  changes  of  the  human  state, 
something  might,  at  last,  take  place,  that  would 
prevent  their  entrance  into  the  mansions  of  eter- 
nal peace.  If,  indeed,  I  could  have  estimated 
these  deductions  from  the  enjoyments  of  pious 


27 

and  virtuous  minds,  I  believe  that  I  should  still 
have  pronounced  them  the  happiest  of  their 
species,  even  in  this  life :  because  their  satis- 
factions were  of  the  purest  and  most  elevated 
kind ;  and  because  their  troubles  arose  from  the 
most  generous  feelings,  and  were  often  mingled 
with  the  sweetest  consolation,  and  the  noblest 
hopes.  This  high  opinion  of  the  happiness  of 
virtue,  and  the  respectability  of  its  possessors, 
(which  I  have  never  ceased  to  entertain,)  made 
me  listen,  with  reverence  and  affection,  to  their 
admonitions.  Every  thing  of  this  nature,  and 
the  animated  encouragements  to  a  religious  life, 
which  I  heard  from  these  exemplary  persons, 
whether  in  public  or  in  private,  made  a  good  im- 
pression on  my  mind  ;  and  sometimes  produced 
regret,  to  perceive  how  distant  I  was  from  that 
felicity,  which  I  believed  these  good  people  pos* 
sessed. 

But  whatever  might  be  my  follies  and  actual 
deviations  from  the  line  of  rectitude,  my  prin- 
ciples were  never  disturbed  by  infidelity  or  scep- 
ticism. I  always  had  the  happiness,  since  I  was 
capable  of  reflecting  on  the  subject,  of  having 
my  sentiments  fixed  in  favour  of  the  Christian 
religion ;  and  no  argument  that  I  ever  met  with, 
in  company  or  books,  had  any  injurious  effects 
upon  me.  Some  of  my  acquaintance  were  either 
deists  or  sceptics:  but  I  always  found  replies  to 


28 

their  reasonings,  which  perfectly  satisfied  my 
own  mind.  This  happy  persuasion  I  attribute, 
under  Divine  Providence,  to  my  having  occa- 
sionally looked  into,  early  in  life,  Leland's  View 
of  the  Deistical  Writers ;  Butler's  Analogy  of 
Religion,  Natural  and  Revealed,  to  the  Consti- 
tution and  Course  of  Nature ;  Sherlock  on  Prov- 
idence ;  and  Sherlock's  Discourses.  These 
books,  with  some  others,  were  the  means  of  com- 
municating to  my  mind,  such  a  survey  of  the 
Christian  religion  and  the  Divine  economy,  that 
I  was  never  much,  if  at  all,  embarrassed,  by 
the  plausible  schemes  and  objections,  which  men 
of  prejudiced  minds  and  short-sighted  views  of  re- 
ligion, had  fabricated  and  produced. — I  am  firmly 
persuaded,  that  the  perplexity  and  doubts,  with 
regard  to  Christianity  and  its  evidences,  which 
many  sensible  and  well-disposed  minds  have  en- 
countered, and  the  absolute  infidelity  of  others, 
may  be  fairly  attributed  to  the  scanty  informa- 
tion which  they  received,  on  these  subjects, 
during  the  period  of  their  education,  or  that  by 
which  it  was  immediately  succeeded. 

Not  long  after  I  had  commenced  my  studies 
under  a  private  tutor,  I  entered  into  a  society  of 
young  persons,  for  the  purpose  of  debating  on 
subjects  of  importance  and  difficulty,  and  of  ex- 
ercising ourselves  in  the  art  of  elocution.  The 
society  met  weekly ;  and  as  the  members  knew 


29 

the  subject  that  would  be  considered  at  their 
next  meeting,  they  had  opportunity  of  preparing 
themselves  for  the  discussion.  I  generally  em- 
ployed a  considerable  portion  of  this  prepara- 
tory time,  in  reading  books  on  the  question;  in 
reflecting  attentively  upon  it;  in  collecting  the 
various  arguments  which  bore  upon  the  subject ; 
in  considering  objections,  with  the  answers  to 
them;  and  in  disposing  the  whole  into  some 
method  and  order.  This  institution  enlarged  my 
stock  of  knowledge,  promoted  the  business  of 
arranging  my  ideas,  and  probably  produced  a 
small  degree  of  correctness  and  fluency  of  ex- 
pression.— These  are  some  of  the  benefits  which 
result  from  societies  of  this  nature.  But  they 
frequently  produce,  in  young  persons,  a  spirit  of 
disputation  and  loquacity ;  and,  at  least,  an  in- 
clination to  scepticism,  even  on  subjects  of  great 
importance.  By  discovering  how  much  may  be 
plausibly  advanced  against  established  truths, 
and  by  exerting  its  ingenuity  in  support  of  error, 
the  youthful  mind,  attracted  by  the  gloss  of  nov- 
elty, and  unaccustomed  to  distinguish  between 
the  solid  and  the  superficial,  may  lose,  or  abate* 
its  veneration  for  truth,  virtue,  and  religion. 

I  scarcely  need  say,  that  it  is  of  great  conse- 
quence to  young  persons,  to  have  a  number  of 
important  truths,  with  the  arguments  which 
support  them,  clearly  settled  in  their  minds. 


30 

These  established  principles,  as  far  as  they  ex- 
tend, not  only  satisfy  the  understanding,  and 
direct,  with  confidence,  the  practice  of  life  ;  but 
serve  as  foundations  to  support  other  truths,  to 
the  investigation  of  which  the  intercourse  with 
men  unavoidably  leads.  If  the  juvenile  mind 
were  duly  impressed  with  truths  thus  evident 
and  well  supported,  it  would  probably  acquire 
such  a  degree  of  strength  and  perspicacity,  such 
a  taste  for  rectitude  of  sentiment,  as  would  in- 
dispose it  for  the  reception  of  erroneous  and 
sophistical  positions.  It  would,  therefore,  be 
highly  desirable  to  cultivate,  amongst  young 
persons,  such  little  societies  as  I  have  described, 
for  the  regular  discussion  of  interesting  topics, 
provided  they  could  be  so  conducted  as  to  avoid 
the  evils,  with  which  they  are  too  often  con- 
nected. If  these  conferences  could  be  managed 
under  the  superintendence  of  respectable  per- 
sons, whose  sound  judgment,  and  comprehensive 
minds  replete  with  science  and  literature,  would 
enable  them  to  sum  up  the  arguments  advanced? 
with  correctness  and  liberality ;  to  give  the  side 
of  truth  the  advantages  of  eloquence  and  dig- 
nity ;  and  to  detect  the  fallacy  of  error,  and  the 
subtleties  of  false  reasoning;  the  benefit  of  such 
societies  would  certainly  be  obtained  with  the 
fewest  possible  disadvantages.  But  if  this  privi-* 
lege  cannot  be  procured,  perhaps  the  next  to  it 


31 

would  be,  to  select,  from  the  members  of  the 
society,  a  few  persons  the  most  distinguished  for 
talents,  learning,  and  virtue ;  who  should,  by 
turns,  officiate  as  presidents ;  and  whose  special 
business  it  should  be,  to  support  the  cause  of 
truth  and  reason,  and  to  lay  open  distinctly 
every  species  of  sophistry,  which  might  occur  in 
the  course  of  the  various  discussions.  The  first 
of  these  plans  would  certainly,  in  a  superior  de- 
gree, promote  order,  and  inspire  a  chastened 
emulation,  amongst  the  members  of  these  little 
societies.  It  would,  in  fact,  confer  upon  them  a 
decorum  and  respectability,  which  in  many 
points  of  view,  would  prove  highly  and  perma- 
nently advantageous  to  young  persons. 

As  my  mind  improved,  and  my  views  en- 
larged, I  became  still  more  attached  to  literary 
pursuits.  I  wished  for  a  profession  connected 
with  these  pursuits ;  and  the  study  of  the  law 
particularly  attracted  my  attention.  When  I 
was  about  seventeen  or  eighteen  years  of  age,  I 
expressed  this  inclination  to  my  father:  but  it  met 
with  his  decided  opposition ;  and  he  took  great 
pains  to  divert  my  thoughts  from  the  subject 
He  represented  the  temptations  which  I  should 
have  to  encounter  in  the  practice  of  the  law; 
and  which,  he  said,  would  probably  lead  me  to 
deviate  from  the  principles  and  conduct  of  that 
religious  society  of  which  I  was  a  member.  He 


32 

displayed  the  advantages  I  should  possess,  both 
in  point  of  emolument  and  respectability,  by  the 
situation  in  which  he  was  able  to  place  me,  as  a 
merchant ;  and  earnestly  entreated  me  to  relin- 
quish all  prospects  of  a  mode  of  life,  to  which 
there  were  attached  so  many  difficulties ;  and  to 
bend  my  inclinations  towards  an  employment 
which,  I  must  know,  promised  almost  certain 
success.  I  believe  I  was  properly  sensible  of  my 
father's  wishes  to  establish  me  advantageously  in 
the  world;  and  of  the  concern  it  gave  him,  to 
perceive  my  rooted  objection  to  an  occupation, 
which  he  very  justly  considered  as  both  lucrative 
and  honourable.  But  I  found  that  my  inclina- 
tion was  not  to  be  controlled  by  motives  of  in- 
terest; and  though  I  did  not  then  urge  the 
point,  I  kept  my  object  steadily  in  view.  After 
some  time  had  elapsed,  I  applied  myself  again 
vigorously  to  the  subject :  but  I  adopted  a  new 
mode  of  proceeding.  I  stated  the  case  at  large 
in  writing.  My  dissatisfaction  with  the  mer- 
cantile employment,  however  beneficial  and  re- 
spectable it  might  be,  and  my  earnest  desire  for 
a  literary  profession,  were  fully  set  forth.  All 
the  arguments  which  I  could  muster  in  support 
of  this  propensity,  and  the  benefits  which  it  was 
likely  to  produce,  were  enumerated ;  and  every 
objection  which  had  been  advanced  against  my 
views  and  wishes,  was  distinctly  brought  for- 


S3 


ward;  and  such  answers  given  to  the  whole,  as 
I  thought  were  satisfactory. 

This  little  performance  which  contained  seve- 
ral pages,  was  shown  to  my  father;  it  was  also 
occasionally  shown  to  some  of  our  friends,  par- 
ticularly to  a  gentleman  of  the  law,  Benjamin 
Kissam,  Esq.  who  was  my  father's  counsellor, 
and  a  man  of  eminence  and  integrity  in  his  pro- 
fession. The  statement  had  a  most  favourable 
effect.  The  counsellor  himself  became  my  advo- 
cate :  and,  in  a  short  time,  my  father  consented 
to  place  me  under  his  care  and  tuition.  A  con- 
siderable sum  of  money  was  advanced  to  him 
by  my  father  as  a  fee  for  initiating  me,  in  the 
business  of  my  new  and  favourite  occupation, 
and  I  entered  into  it  with  great  alacrity.  Time 
now  rolled  on  very  pleasantly;  and  the  hope  of 
being  settled  in  a  profession  adapted  to  my 
wishes,  gilded  my  future  prospects.  After  some 
time,  my  father  very  generously  presented  me 
with  an  excellent  library,  which  comprehended 
both  books  of  law,  and  some  parts  of  general  lite- 
rature ;  and  which  were  well  calculated  to  aid  and 
invigorate  my  studies. — I  cannot,  however,  say 
that  I  always  found  the  study  of  the  law  to  be 
pleasant.  It  contains  many  barren  and  uninvi- 
ting tracts,  and  extensive  fields  of  laborious  em- 
ployment. It  abounds  with  discordant  views, 
with  intricate  and  perplexing  discussions,  and 

7 


>' 


34 


requires  much  deep  and  patient  investigation. 
But  I  was  not  discouraged  with  my  occupation. 
It  was  the  profession  of  my  own  choice  :  it  was  a 
respectable  business:  and  it  promised  to  afford 
me  a  competent  support. 

The  celebrated  John  Jay,  Esq.  late  governor 
of  the  state  of  New  York,  was  my  fellow  student, 
in  the  office  of  our  worthy  patron,  for  about  two 
years.  His  talents  and  virtues  gave,  at  that 
period,  pleasing  indications  of  future  eminence. 
He  was  remarkable  for  strong  reasoning  powers, 
comprehensive  views,  indefatigable  application, 
and  uncommon  firmness  of  mind.  With  these 
qualifications,  added  to  a  just  taste  in  literature, 
and  ample  stores  of  learning  and  knowledge,  he 
was  happily  prepared  to  enter  on  that  career  of 
public  virtue,  by  which  he  was  afterwards  hon- 
ourably distinguished,  and  made  instrumental 
in  promoting  the  good  of  his  country.  This 
meritorious  person,  after  having  occupied  some 
of  the  highest  stations,  which  the  United  States 
could  confer  upon  him,  and  having  lived  to  see 
his  country  abounding  in  men  of  eminence  and 
talents,  conceived  it  to  be  allowable  for  him,  per- 
haps his  duty,  to  withdraw  from  the  fatigues  of 
office,  the  contests  and  anxieties  of  public  life. 
As  a  private  country  gentleman,  he  has  lived  on 
his  estate,  not  far  from  the  city  of  New  York,  for 
many  years.  Here,  in  the  bosom  of  an  amiable 


35 

family,  and  in  useful  private  occupations,  he  has, 
I  trust,  enjoyed  that  tranquillity  which  he  sought. 
I  hope  that  whilst  the  past  affords  him  many 
pleasing  recollections,  and  the  future  is  contem- 
plated with  composure,  the  evening  of  his  life 
will  be  brightened  with  the  most  cheering  and 
animating  prospects.  This  tribute  to  the  merit 
of  an  old  friend,  will  not,  I  believe,  be  deemed 
an  impertinent  digression  from  the  work  in  which 
I  am  engaged. — To  the  regular  progress  of  that 
work,  I  now  return. 

After  four  years  from  the  commencement  of 
my  law  studies,  in  the  office  of  my  truly  re- 
spectable instructer,  I  was  called  to  the  bar;  and 
received  a  license  to  practise,  both  as  counsel  and 
attorney,  according  to  the  custom  of  that  time, 
in  all  the  courts  of  the  province  of  New-York. 
I  soon  commenced  business,  and  prosecuted  it 
with  success.  It  answered  the  expectations  I 
had  formed;  and  I  believe  my  family  and 
friends  were  satisfied  with  the  prospects  which 
attended  me. 

Before  I  entered  into  business,  and  about  the 
twentieth  year  of  my  age,  I  conceived  a  strong 
attachment  and  affection  for  a  young  woman  of 
personal  attractions,  good  sense,  a  most  amiable 
disposition,  and  of  a  worthy  and  respectable 
family.  It  was  not  long,  before  I  perceived  that 


36 

my  regard  met  with  a  favourable  reception. 
Time,  and  opportunity  of  knowing  each  other, 
confirmed  our  attachment ;  and  after  two  years' 
acquaintance,  we  had  the  satisfaction  of  being 
united  in  the  tender  bonds  of  marriage. 

We  have  lived  together  more  than  forty 
years;  and  through  the  whole  course  of  that 
period,  she  has  been  to  me  a  truly  affectionate 
and  excellent  wife.  In  all  our  varied  conditions 
of  life,  I  have  received  from  her  the  most  une- 
quivocal proofs  of  attachment,  and  solicitude  for 
my  welfare.  During  my  long  confinement,  on 
account  of  bodily  infirmities,  she  has  cheerfully 
met  our  privations;  tenderly  sympathized  with 
me ;  and  been  cordially  disposed  to  forego  her 
own  ease,  to  afford  me  assistance  and  comfort. 
She  has,  indeed,  been  a  great  blessing  to  me; 
and  I  have  abundant  cause  to  be  deeply  thankful 
to  God,  for  this  unmerited  favour,  and  its  con- 
tinuance to  the  present  time.  It  yields  me  great 
satisfaction,  to  perceive  that  our  esteem  and  love 
for  each  other,  have  not  diminished  with  ad- 
vancing years.  The  evening  of  our  day  has, 
indeed,  been  illumined  by  brighter  rays,  than 
those  which  our  morning  or  meridian  light 
afforded.  And  I  earnestly  hope,  that,  whilst 
life  remains,  we  shall  be  favoured,  by  Divine 
Grace,  to  cherish  those  sentiments  and  virtues, 


37 

which  will  exalt  the  happiness  of  our  union ;  sup- 
port us  under  every  trial;  and  prepare  our  minds 
for  the  enjoyment  of  a  better  world. 

*  * 

I  now  finish  this  letter, 
And  remain, 

With  sincere  regard,  &c. 


LETTER    III. 


My  dear  Friend, 

THE  two  most  important  events 
of  a  man's  life,  are  generally  those  of  his  entering 
into  business  for  himself,  and  his  forming  the 
connexion  of  marriage.  When  these  events  are 
auspicious,  and  especially  when  interest  is  not 
too  earnestly  pursued,  there  is  great  reason  to 
look  for  success,  and  a  good  portion  of  enjoy- 
ment through  life,  provided  that  correct  princi- 
ples and  virtuous  habits  accompany  them.  I 
have  already  observed,  that  my  marriage  was 
happy,  and  my  business  promising :  and  as  our 
connexions  were  respectable,  and  disposed  to  pro- 
mote our  welfare,  I  had  much  to  make  me  thank- 
ful to  Divine  Providence,  and  to  encourage  me 
to  persevere  in- a  course  of  industry  and  useful- 
ness. I  was  not  influenced  by  the  desire  of  ac- 
quiring great  property,  and  was  therefore  not 
disturbed  by  the  cares  and  anxieties  which  too 
often  accompany  that  disposition. 


39 

Not  long  after  I  had  commenced  business, 
some  circumstances  rendered  it  proper  for  me  to 
make  a  voyage  to  England ;  where  my  father 
had  been  about  a  year  on  commercial  matters 
of  importance,  which  made  his  presence  there,  at 
that  time,  very  expedient.  For  many  years  pre- 
vious to  his  leaving  America,  he  had  been  con- 
siderably indisposed  :  at  the  best,  his  constitu- 
tion was  but  delicate.  The  climate  of  England, 
however,  proved  very  beneficial.  I  found  him 
so  much  improved  in  his  general  health,  that  I 
could  not  but  wish  that  he  would  continue  in 
this  country  for  a  few  years :  and  he  was  so 
strongly  impressed  with  the  hope  of  receiving 
benefit,  by  such  a  residence,  as  well  as  by  the 
advantages  which  would  result  to  his  concerns 
in  trade,  that  he  communicated  his  views  to  my 
mother,  and  expressed  his  wish  to  see  her  and 
his  children  in  England.  They  accordingly,  in 
the  course  of  a  few  months,  came  to  him :  and 
as  I  did  not  expect  to  return  very  soon,  my  wife 
was  persuaded  to  accompany  them  across  the 
Atlantic.  I  had  therefore  the  comfort  and  satis- 
faction of  meeting  again  my  beloved  wife, 
mother,  brother,  and  sisters.  The  whole  family, 
thus  met  together,  in  a  country  so  distant  from 
their  native  shores,  could  not  but  feel  themselves 
highly  gratified,  and  peculiarly  attached  to  one 
another.  My  dear  mother  was  sensible  of  the 


40 

improved  state  of  my  father's  health ;  and  cheer- 
fully consented  to  reside  a  few  years  in  England, 
for  its  complete  establishment. 

When  I  first  came  to  this  country,  I  had  not 
fixed  any  time  for  my  continuance  in  it :  but 
soon  after  my  arrival,  it  appeared  probable  that, 
in  the  course  of  a  year,  I  should  return  to  Amer- 
ica. There  was  not,  therefore,  much  oppor- 
tunity for  my  dear  partner  and  myself  to  gratify 
our  curiosity,  in  surveying  what  was  instructive 
and  interesting  in  this  highly  cultivated  and 
happy  land.  We,  however,  made  a  good  use  of 
our  time ;  and  were  much  pleased  with  the  nov- 
elty and  information,  which,  on  every  side,  con- 
tinually pressed  for  attention.  It  was  a  peculiar 
gratification  to  me  that,  in  these  excursions  and 
surveys,  I  had  the  society  of  one,  in  whose  en- 
tertainment and  instruction  I  felt  myself  warmly 
interested.  Every  enjoyment  was,  I  believe, 
heightened  to  both  of  us,  by  the  consciousness  of 
each  other's  participation. 

In  the  latter  part  of  the  year  1771,  we  re- 
turned to  New-York.  My  parents  and  the  rest 
of  the  family  remained  in  England  several  years. 
But  after  this  period  of  trial,  my  father  perceiv- 
ed, that  the  benefit  which  he  derived  from  the 
change  of  climate,  was  only  temporary.  His  for- 
mer indisposition  resumed  its  wonted  strength. 
Having  therefore  arranged  his  mercantile  affairs 


41 

entirely  to  his  satisfaction,  he,  with  his  family, 
embarked  for  New  York;  and  arrived  safely 
there  in  the  year  1775. 

With  regard  to  myself,  I  observe  that,  on  my 
return  to  New  York,  I  resumed  the  practice  of 
the  law.  I  had  many  friends  and  connexions ; 
which  renewed  the  pleasing  hopes  I  had  formerly 
possessed,  of  succeeding  in  business.  Attention 
and  industry  were  not  wanting ;  and  I  enjoyed 
myself  in  again  settling  to  my  profession.  An 
event,  however,  occurred  at  this  time,  which 
threatened  a  diminution  of  my  business,  par- 
ticularly among  the  society  of  which  1  was  a 
member.  This  society  had  lately  purchased  in 
the  city,  a  valuable  piece  of  ground,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  erecting  upon  it  a  large  meeting  house, 
for  Divine  worship.  I  was  employed  to  prepare 
the  deed  of  conveyance.  I  found  every  thing 
regular,  drew  up  the  instrument,  and,  when  it 
was  engrossed,  delivered  it  to  the  trustees,  for 
their  inspection  before  it  was  executed.  When 
I  expected  the  completion  of  this  business,  one 
of  the  trustees  called  upon  me,  and  delicately  ob- 
served, that  in  consequence  of  some  doubt  as  to 
the  validity  of  the  instrument,  they  had  applied 
to  a  lawyer  of  distinction  and  long  established 
practice,  who  declared  that  the  conveyance  was 
void,  being  liable  to  the  statutes  of  mortmain. 
I  was  greatly  surprised  and  hurt ;  and  clearly 

8 


42 

perceived,  that  if  this  opinion  were  not  effect- 
ually counteracted,  it  would  strike  deeply  at 
my  reputation  and  practice  as  a  lawyer.  1  there- 
fore desired  the  person  to  leave  the  instrument 
with  me,  for  a  little  time,  when,  I  doubted  not, 
1  should  be  able  to  satisfy  the  trustees,  that  it 
was  perfectly  regular.  I  immediately  laid  the 
conveyance  before  the  first  counsellor  in  the  pro- 
vince, and  requested  his  opinion  of  it  in  writing. 
He  gave  it,  in  the  most  explicit  language,  and 
fully  adapted  to  the  case.  It  was,  he  said,  in 
every  respect,  a  good  deed  ;  and  he  observed,  in 
particular,  that  none  of  the  statutes  of  mort- 
main would  affect  it.  My  mind  was  completely 
relieved  by  this  decision.  I  produced  the  opinion 
to  the  trustees,  who  were  perfectly  satisfied  with 
it ;  and  appeared  to  be  much  pleased,  that  I  had 
so  happily  extricated  myself  from  the  difficulty. 
The  result  of  this  affair  was  exactly  the  reverse 
of  what  might  at  first  have  been  expected.  It 
established  my  reputation  among  the  members 
of  the  society.  My  business  increased;  and  they 
applied  to  me  with  confidence. 

In  the  practice  of  the  law,  pecuniary  interest 
was  not  my  only  rule  of  action.  When  cir- 
cumstances would  properly  admit  of  it,  I  gene- 
rally  endeavoured  to  persuade  the  person  who 
was  threatened  with  a  prosecution,  to  pay  the 
debt,  or  make  satisfaction,  without  the  trouble 


43 

and  expense  of  a  suit  In  doubtful  cases,  I  fre- 
quently recommended  a  settlement  of  differences, 
by  arbitration,  as  the  mode  which  I  conceived 
would  ultimately  prove  most  satisfactory  to  both 
parties.  I  do  not  recollect  that  I  ever  encour- 
aged a  client  to  proceed  at  law,  when  I  thought 
his  cause  was  unjust  or  indefensible :  but,  in  such 
cases,  I  believe  it  was  my  invariable  practice  to 
discourage  litigation,  and  to  recommend  a  peace- 
able settlement  of  differences.  In  the  retrospect 
of  this  mode  of  practice,  I  have  always  had  great 
satisfaction ;  and  I  am  persuaded  that  a  differ- 
ent procedure,  would  have  been  the  source  of 
many  painful  recollections. 

My  business  was  very  successful,  and  contin- 
ued to  increase  till  the  troubles  in  America  com- 
menced. A  general  failure  of  proceedings  in 
the  courts  of  law,  then  took  place.  This  cir- 
cumstance, joined  to  a  severe  illness,  which  had 
left  me  in  a  feeble  state  of  health,  induced  me  to 
remove  into  the  country.  We  chose  for  our 
retreat  a  situation  on  Long  Island,  in  the  district 
of  Islip,  about  forty  miles  from  the  city  of  New 
York.  Here  we  concluded  to  remain,  till  the 
political  storm  should  blow  over,  and  the  hori- 
zon become  again  clear  and  settled.  This  we 
did  not  expect  would  be  very  soon ;  and  there- 
fore made  our  settlement  accordingly.  As  our 
place  of  residence  wras  on  the  borders  of  a  large 


44 

bay  near  the  ocean,  I  purchased  a  very  conve- 
nient, little  pleasure-boat;  which  I  thought  would 
not  only  amuse  me,  but  contribute  to  the  re- 
establishment  of  my  health.  In  this  situation,  I 
became  extremely  attached  to  the  pleasures  of 
shooting,  and  fishing,  and  sailing  on  the  bay. 
These  exercises  probably  gained  for  me  an  ac- 
cession of  health  and  strength;  and,  on  that 
ground,  partly  reconciled  me  to  an  occupation  of 
my  time,  which  was  but  little  connected  with 
mental  improvement.  I  have,  however,  often  re- 
gretted that  so  long  a  period  should  have  elaps- 
ed, without  any  vigorous  application  to  study; 
and  without  an  improved  preparation  for  the  re- 
turn of  those  settled  times,  when  I  should  again 
derive  my  support  from  the  funds  of  knowledge 
and  judgment.  The  loss  which  I  sustained,  by 
not  sufficiently  attending,  at  this  time,  to  literary 
pursuits  and  professional  studies,  can  not  easily 
be  calculated.  Every  expansion  of  the  mind, 
every  useful  habit,  and  portion  of  knowledge, 
at  that  age  especially,  is  not  only  so  much  pre- 
sent gain,  but  serves  as  a  principal  to  produce 
an  ever  growing  and  accumulating  interest 
through  life.  If  this  advantage  were  duly  ap- 
preciated by  young  persons,  it  would  prove  a 
most  powerful  stimulus  to  embrace  every  proper 
opportunity,  to  enlarge  the  understanding,  and 
to  store  it  with  useful  knowledge. 


45 

On  this  occasion,  I  must  add,  that  the  recol- 
lection of  the  time  which  I  spent,  in  the  pleas- 
ures of  shooting,  and  idly  sailing  about  the  bay, 
affords  me  no  solid  satisfaction,  in  a  moral  and 
religious  point  of  view.  That  time,  or  the  great- 
er part  of  it,  might  have  been  employed,  in  doing 
good  to  others,  in  the  society  and  converse  of 
pious  and  virtuous  persons,  and  in  the  perusal 
of  the  sacred  volume,  and  other  religious  books, 
tending  to  establish  the  heart  and  life,  in  the 
love  arid  practice  of  goodness.  I  might  have  so 
occupied  myself,  as  to  have  made  my  most  im- 
portant interests  coincide  with  my  health  and 
bodily  enjoyments,  instead  of  indulging  myself 
in  that  dissipation  of  mind,  and  those  selfish,  in- 
jurious habits,  which  the  amusements  I  had 
adopted  are  too  apt  to  produce.  I  do  not,  how- 
ever, wish  to  censure  the  practice  of  other  per- 
sons, in  the  pursuits  and  amusements  with  which 
they  are  well  and  conscientiously  satisfied.  My 
object  is,  to  state  my  own  feelings  and  regrets, 
on  the  retrospect  of  this  part  of  my  life. 

But  occupied  as  I  was  with  amusement,  my 
mind  was  not  so  much  attached  to  it,  as  to  be 
totally  inattentive  to  every  thing  of  a  useful 
nature.  About  a  year  after  my  residence  at 
Islip,  the  country  became  greatly  distressed  from 
the  scarcity  of  salt.  The  British  cruisers  effect- 
ually prevented  the  introduction  of  that  article 


46 

among  the  Americans.  And  the  Congress  found 
it  necessary  to  recommend  arid  encourage  the 
making  of  it,  in  every  place  that  was  favourably 
situated  for  the  manufacture.  I  conceived  that 
salt  works  might  be  advantageously  erected  on 
an  island  in  the  bay  near  which  1  resided ;  and  1 
communicated  this  idea  to  an  ingenious  and 
spirited  young  man  who  was  my  neighbour. 
He  very  readily  came  into  the  plan,  and  joined 
me  in  the  execution  of  it.  We  embraced  the 
scheme  the  more  cordially,  because  we  were  at- 
tached to  our  country,  and  felt  for  the  distresses 
in  which  it  was  involved.  We  procured  materials 
at  a  considerable  expense,  employed  artificers  ta 
construct  the  works,  and  were  just  ready  to  begin 
the  manufacture,  and  reap  the  fruit  of  our  la- 
bours, when  the  British  forces  took  possession  of 
New  York,  and  consequently  of  Long  Island. 
This  event  entirely  superseded  our  operations ; 
as  the  article  of  salt  was  then  abundantly  intro- 
duced into  the  country.  Our  loss  was  con- 
siderable: but  we  had  no  remedy;  and  the 
whole  concern  was,  therefore,  without  hesitation 
abandoned. 

The  employment  which  I  had,  in  devising  and 
superintending  these  works,  was  not,  however, 
wholly  destitute  of  advantage  to  me.  The 
motives  which  led  to  it  would  bear  reflection ; 
the  occupation  of  mind  and  body  to  which  it 


47 


contributed,  was  salutary;  and  the  knowledge 
which  I  acquired  of  the  business,  made  some 
addition  to  my  little  stock.  I  had  occasion  too, 
in  this  event,  for  the  exercise  of  that  virtue, 
which  submits  cheerfully  to  disappointments. 
This,  indeed,  was  not,  in  the  present  instance,  an 
exercise  of  much  difficulty.  I  was  not  naturally 
disposed  to  brood  over  misfortunes:  but  pos- 
sessed a  facility,  in  turning  from  the  view  of  them, 
and  presenting  to  myself  objects  of  a  different 
complexion.  This  is  a  propensity  which,  under 
proper  limitations  and  government,  is  doubtless  a 
happy  constitution.  But,  though  generally  bene- 
ficial, I  have  often  indulged  it  beyond  those 
limits  which  wisdom  prescribes. — A  habit  of 
mind  that  is  ever  seeking  for,  and  presenting, 
pleasant  objects;  and  which  refuses  to  contem- 
plate occasionally  the  disasters  and  the  troubles 
incident  to  humanity;  nourishes  a  light  and 
frivolous  temper,  and  prevents  the  good  effects 
of  those  salutary  lessons,  which  the  adverse  oc- 
currences of  life,  when  properly  considered,  are 
calculated  to  produce. 

After  we  had  resided  at  Islip  about  four  years, 
I  became  dissatisfied  with  a  mode  of  life,  which 
consisted  chiefly  in  amusement  and  bodily  ex- 
ercise. I  perceived  the  necesssity  of  doing  some- 
thing that  would  provide  permanent  funds  for 
the  expenses  of  my  family.  The  British  power 


48 


was  still  maintained  in  New  York,  and  appeared 
likely  to  be  established  there :  and  the  practice 
of  the  law  was  completely  superseded.  I  had, 
therefore,  no  prospect  of  any  considerable  em- 
ployment, but  by  settling  at  New  York,  and  en- 
tering into  mercantile  concerns.  We  removed 
accordingly  to  the  city,  and  took  a  situation 
favourable  for  business.  My  father  very  gener- 
ously gave  me  an  unlimited  credit,  in  the  impor- 
tation of  merchandise  from  London:  and  after 
forming  the  best  judgment  I  could  of  the  arti- 
cles likely  to  be  in  demand,  I  made  out  a  large 
order.  The  goods  arrived,  and  I  found  a  ready 
sale  for  them.  Thus  encouraged,  I  continued  to 
import  more  of  them,  and  that  extensively,  every 
season ;  and  soon  perceived  that  I  had  engaged 
in  a  very  lucrative  occupation.  Every  year 
added  to  my  capital,  till,  about  the  period  of 
the  establishment  of  American  independence,  I 
found  myself  able  to  gratify  our  favourite  wishes, 
and  retire  from  business. 

I  purchased  a  country  seat  on  the  banks  of  the 
river,  about  three  miles  from  the  city  of  New 
York.  Here  we  promised  ourselves  every  enjoy- 
ment that  our  hearts  desired.  Bellevue,  for  that 
was  the  name  of  our  retreat,  was  most  delight- 
fully situated.  A  noble  river,  a  mile  in  breadth, 
spread  itself  before  us:  a  rich  and  pleasant 
country  was  on  the  opposite  shore:  and  our 


49 

view  extended  several  miles  both  up  and  down 
the  river.  On  this  grand  expanse  of  water, 
vessels  and  boats  of  various  descriptions,  were 
almost  continually  sailing.  The  house  was  neat 
and  commodious;  and  accommodated  with  a 
spacious  and  elegant  piazza,  sashed  with  Vene- 
tian blinds;  which  added  to  its  coolness  in  sum- 
mer, and  produced  a  most  soothing  and  grateful 
effect.  At  the  back  of  the  mansion,  was  a  large 
garden,  well  supplied  with  fruit,  flowers,  and 
useful  vegetables :  and  in  other  directions  from 
the  house,  were  rows  of  various  kinds  of  fruit 
trees,  distinguished  by  their  beauty  and  utility. 
In  the  rear  of  the  house  and  garden,  was  a 
pleasant  and  fertile  field,  which  afforded  pastur- 
age for  the  cattle.  This  little  paradisiacal  spot 
was  perfectly  to  our  wishes.  Here  we  fondly  ho- 
ped often  to  see  our  dearest  connexions,  and  to  en- 
tertain our  friends.  Every  comfort  to  be  derived 
from  useful  and  interesting  society,  would,  we 
imagined,  be  heightened  in  this  pleasing  abode.  I 
thought  too,  that  this  retreat  would  be  friendly 
to  study  arid  mental  acquisitions ;  that  my  health 
would  be  improved,  by  the  exercise  which  I 
should  have  in  rural  occupations ;  and  that  the 
vicinity  of  the  city  and  its  various  occupations, 
would  afford  me  opportunities  of  being  useful 
to  my  fellow-citizens.  These  hopes  and  views 
appeared  to  be  rational  and  well  founded;  and  I 
9 


50 

felt  no  reluctance,  or  compunction,  in  indulging 
them.  But  the  pleasant  prospects  were  soon 
overcast:  the  cup  of  promised  sweets  was  not 
allowed  to  approach  our  lips.  Divine  Provi- 
dence had  allotted  for  us  a  different  situation : 
and  I  have  no  doubt  that  the  allotment  was 
both  wise  and  good ;  and  better  for  us  than  our 
own  fond  appointments. 

Before  we  removed  to  Bellevue,  I  had  a  severe 
fit  of  illness,  which  left  me  in  a  very  infirm  and 
debilitated  state  of  body.  The  tone  of  my 
muscles  was  so  much  impaired,  that  I  could 
walk  but  little;  and  this  relaxation  continued  to 
increase.  I  was  besides,  in  the  course  of  the  day, 
frequently  affected  with  singular  sensations  of 
chilness,  succeeded  by  a  degree  of  fever.  My 
situation,  at  times,  became  very  distressing.  I 
was,  however,  encouraged  by  the  hope,  that  a 
short  residence  at  our  delightful  retreat,  would 
restore  me  to  my  usual  state  of  health  and 
strength.  But  season  succeeded  season,  without 
my  receiving  any  salutary  effect.  I  evidently 
grew  worse:  and  my  friends  became  alarmed  at 
my  situation.  They  generally  recommended 
travelling.  Additional  exercise,  new  scenes,  and 
drinking  the  waters  of  certain  medicinal  springs, 
were  thought  likely  to  afford  me  assistance.  As 
my  spirits  were  good,  and  life  and  health  very 
desirable,  I  cordially  entered  into  the  views  of 


51 

my  friends,  and,  with  my  affectionate  and  sym- 
pathizing partner,  I  set  off  for  Bristol  in  Penn- 
sylvania. We  remained  in  this  rural  and  pleas- 
ant town  a  few  weeks :  during  which  time,  I 
bathed,  and  drank  the  water;  but  without  any 
good  effect.  The  weather  then  growing  ex- 
tremely hot,  Fahrenheit's  thermometer  being  at 
ninety  degrees,  we  proceeded  to  some  celebrated 
springs  in  the  mountains  of  New  Jersey.  Here,  I 
seemed  to  grow  better  for  a  few  weeks :  but  the 
water  yielded  no  permanent  benefit.  From  the 
very  elevated  situation  of  those  mountains,  the 
air  was  cool  and  refreshing :  but  as  the  roads 
were  stony  and  broken,  I  could  not  have  the 
advantage  of  regular  exercise  in  a  carriage.  To 
remedy  this  inconvenience,  I  made  some  efforts 
on  horseback,  and  some  on  foot :  but  these  ef- 
forts fatigued  me  to  a  great  degree,  and  increas- 
ed the  debility  under  which  I  laboured. 

Perceiving  that  neither  the  springs,  nor  the 
situation  produced  any  beneficial  effects,  and 
travelling  being  one  of  the  means  for  the  re- 
covery of  health,  which  had  been  recommended 
to  me,  we  left  the  mountains,  and  bent  our 
course  towards  Bethlehem,  in  Pennsylvania,  a 
healthful  and  pleasant  town  about  fifty  miles 
from  Philadelphia.  This  is  a  settlement  of  the 
Moravians.  The  situation  of  the  place,  its  re- 
freshing and  salutary  air,  joined  to  the  character 


52 

of  its  inhabitants,  made  a  cheering  impression  up- 
on us;  and  we  took  up  our  quarters  at  the  inn 
with  pleasure,  and  with  the  hope  of  advantage. 
A  few  days  after  we  had  settled  here,  we  were 
most  agreeably  surprised,  by  the  arrival  of  my 
father,  and  my  sister  Beulah.  This  affectionate 
parent  had  long  been  anxious  about  my  health, 
and  solicitous  to  promote  it.  And  perceiving 
that  we  were  not  likely  to  return  very  soon,  and 
that  I  had  not  received  much  benefit,  he  was 
desirous  of  spending  a  little  time  with  us;  which 
he  naturally  thought  would  have  a  cheering 
effect  oft  his  children,  in  their  present  solitary 
excursion.  This  visit  was  as  grateful  as  it  was 
unexpected.  My  sister  was  a  sensible  and  amia- 
ble young  woman,  of  a  gentle  nature  and  en- 
gaging manners,  to  whom  we  were  both  very 
nearly  attached :  we  therefore  formed  a  little 
band,  closely  united  by  the  ties  of  affection  and 
consanguinity.  This  pleasing  association,  joined 
to  the  beauty  and  retirement  of  the  place,  gave 
an  animating  impulse  to  my  spirits ;  so  that  I 
was  better  at  Bethlehem  than  I  had  been  in  any 
other  part  of  the  journey. 

There  was  here  much  to  occupy  the  mind,  and 
to  gratify  curiosity.  The  different  houses  appro- 
priated to  the  single  brethren,  the  single  sisters, 
and  the  widows,  with  the  various  economy  of  the 
society,  were  subjects  of  an  interesting  nature. 


53 

The  spirit  of  moderation,  the  government  of  the 
passions.and  the  tranquillity  and  happiness,which 
appeared  to  pervade  every  part  of  this  retired  set- 
tlement, made  on  our  minds  a  strong  and  pleasing 
impression.  We  several  times  visited  the  different 
departments;  and^  at  our  inn,  received  occasion- 
ally the  visits  of  a  number  of  their  most  respect- 
able members.  They  were  very  communicative; 
and  attended,  with  liberality  and  good  humour, 
to  the  ideas  which  we  suggested,  for  the  improve- 
ment of  particular  parts  of  their  economy.  Among 
other  observations,  we  took  occasion  to  inquire, 
whether  the  practice  of  the  elders  and  elderesses 
in  selecting  a  partner  for  a  young  man  who 
wished  to  marry,  was  not  sometimes  attended 
with  serious  inconveniences.  But  they  seemed 
to  have  no  doubt,  that  this  regulation  produced 
more  happy  marriages,  than  would  be  effected 
by  leaving  the  parties  to  chose  for  themselves. 
A  lively  and  sensible  person,  with  whose  conver- 
sation we  were  particularly  pleased,  took  occa- 
sion to  give  us  his  own  experience  on  the  sub- 
ject. He  expressed  himself  to  the  following 
effect.  "When  I  wished  to  change  my  situa- 
tion in, life,  I  applied  to  one  of  our  elders,  and 
communicated  the  matter  to  him.  He  asked 
me  whether  I  had  any  particular  young  woman 
in  view.  I  replied  in  the  negative ;  and  that  I 
wished  my  superiors  to  choose  for  me.  Pleased 


54 

with  my  answer,  and  the  confidence  reposed  ia 
them,  he  assured  me  that  the  greatest  care  should 
be  taken,  to  select  for  me  a  partner,  who  would 
be,  in  every  respect,  proper  for  me.  The  elders 
and  elderesses  consulted  together,  and,  after  a 
suitable  time,  fixed  on  a  young  woman,  whose 
disposition  and  qualifications  were  correspondent 
to  my  own,  and  which  they  thought  were  adapt- 
ed to  make  me  happy.  We  were  introduced  to 
each  other,  in  the  presence  of  our  superiors.  The 
interview  was  favourable  :  we  became  mutually 
attached ;  and,  in  a  short  time,  we  were  married. 
The  event  has  perfectly  answered  our  most  san- 
guine hopes.  I  probably  should  not  have  chosen 
so  happily,  if  I  had  been  left  to  decide  for 
myself;  but  I  am  certain  I  could  not  have  made  a 
bettetr  choice."  He  concluded  his  observations 
with  a  degree  of  animation  and  satisfaction, 
which  precluded  all  doubt  of  the  truth  of  his 
assertions. 

The  roads  and  scenery  about  Bethlehem  were 
very  delightful.  I  frequently  enjoyed  the  pleas- 
ure they  afforded,  by  riding  in  a  small  open 
carriage,  which  gave  me  a  good  opportunity  of 
surveying  the  beauties  of  the  country.  In  one 
of  these  excursions,  I  observed  a  gate  which 
opened  into  some  grounds  that  were  very  pic- 
turesque. Without  proper  consideration,  I  de- 
sired the  servant  who  accompanied  me,  to  open 


55 

the  gate.     Almost   immediately  I  observed  a 
group  of  cheerful,  neatly  dressed  young  females 
approaching.     They  had  been  gathering  black- 
berries, a  rich  fruit  in  that  country ;  and  each 
of  them  had  a  little  basket  in  her  hand  filled  with 
this  sort  of  fruit.     I  soon  perceived  that  I  had 
committed  a  trespass,  in  offering  to  enter  the 
grounds  appropriated  entirely  to  the  walks  of 
females.     When  they  came  near  me,  I  apolo- 
gized for   the  intrusion,  by  alleging  that  I  did 
not  know  the  peculiar  use  to  which  the  enclosure 
was  applied.     With  great  good  nature,  and  gen- 
uine politeness,  some  of   them  intimated   that 
I  was  perfectly  excusable.    I  believe  the  number 
of  this  cheerful  group  was  about  thirty,  between 
the  ages  of  fifteen  and  twenty-five.     The  sight 
of  so  much  apparent  innocence  and  happiness 
was  extremely  pleasing.     And  whilst  they  stood 
near  the  carriage,  from  which  I  could  not  con- 
veniently alight,  I  thought  it  would  be  proper 
to  express  my  respect  and  good  wishes  for  them. 
I  therefore  took  the  liberty  of  addressing  them 
in  a  short  speech ;  which,  as  near  as  I  can  recol- 
lect, was  to  the  following  purport.     I  observed 
that  it  gave  me  particular  pleasure,  to  see  them 
all  so  happy:  that  their  situation  was,  indeed, 
enviable,   and   singularly  adapted  to   produce 
much  real  enjoyment,' and  to  protect  them  from 
the  follies,  the  vices,  and  the  miseries,  of  the 


56 

world :  that  if  they  knew  the  troubles  and  ex- 
posures, which  are  to  be  met  with  in  the  gen- 
eral intercourse  of  life,  they  would  doubly  en- 
joy their  safe  and  tranquil  seclusion  from  those 
dangers,  and  be  thankful  for  the  privileges  they 
possessed.  My  harangue  seemed  to  have  a  good 
effect  upon  them.  They  smiled,  and  some  of 
them  said  that  they  were  indeed  happy  in  their 
situation.  A  few  of  them  then  held  up  their 
little  baskets,  and  desired  I  would  help  myself 
to  some  fruit.  I  thanked  them ;  and  took  more 
than  I  wanted,  that  I  might  the  better  gratify 
their  benevolence.  I  then  parted  with  this 
pleasing  company,  and  pursued  an  other  road, 
well  satisfied  with  a  mistake  and  adventure 
which  had  yielded  me  so  much  heart-felt  satis- 
faction. 

I  must  not  omit  to  mention,  that  these  good 
young  persons  reported  to  their  superiors  the 
whole  of  this  transaction,  with  what  had  been 
said  on  the  occasion.  But  I  found  that,  not- 
withstanding my  intrusion,  I  had  lost  no  credit 
with  the  elderesses.  For  they  sent  to  inform 
the  sick  gentleman,  (this  was  the  term  by  which 
I  was  designated,)  that  he  had  full  liberty,  and 
was  welcome,  whenever  he  chose,  to  ride  in  the 
grounds  appropriated  to  the  walks  of  the  fe- 
males. I  acknowledged  the  favour  of  so  great 
a  privilege;  but  as  I  could  not  think  it  en- 


57 

tirely  warrantable  and  proper  to  make  use  of 
it,  I  never  repeated  my  visit  to  this  interesting 
place. 

Of  the  various  institutions  at  this  settlement, 
we  particularly  admired  that  for  the  benefit  of 
widows.  This  house  met  our  entire  approbation. 
An  asylum  for  those  who  had  lost  their  most 
valuable  earthly  treasures,  and  who  could  neither 
receive  from  the  world,  nor  confer  upon  it, 
much,  if  any,  important  service,  appeared  to 
have  a  just  foundation  in  wisdom  and  benevo- 
lence. But  to  detach  from  many  of  the  advan- 
tages and  duties  of  society,  young  persons  in  the 
full  possession  of  health,  strength,  and  spirits, 
seemed  to  us  to  be,  on  the  whole  view  of  the 
subject,  a  very  questionable  policy ;  though  cer- 
tainly some  very  important  moral  uses  were  de- 
rived from  the  institutions  which  respected  the 
single  brethren  and  the  single  sisters. — Having 
formed  some  acquaintance  with  several  worthy 
persons  in  this  happy  town,  and  being  much  grat- 
ified with  our  visit,  we  took  our  leave  with  regret. 
I  can  not  easily  forget  the  pleasing  impressions 
which  this  settlement  left  upon  my  mind.  The 
grandeur  of  the  neighbouring  hills ;  the  winding 
course  of  its  adjacent  beautiful  river ;  and  the 
serene,  enlivening  state  of  the  atmosphere ; 
joined  to  the  modest  and  tranquil  appearance  of 
the  inhabitants  j  their  frequent  and  devout  per- 
10 


58 

formance  of  Divine  worship;  and  their  unaffect- 
ed politeness  and  good  humour ;  are  sufficient  to 
render  Bethlehem  a  most  interesting  and  delight- 
ful retreat.  To  the  calm  and  soothing  virtues  of 
life,  it  is,  certainly,  a  situation  peculiarly  favour- 
able. But  the  moral  excellences,  connected 
with  arduous  and  dignified  exertion,  meet,  per- 
haps, with  but  few  occasions  here  to  call  them 
forth. 

After  we  left  Bethlehem,  where  we  had  spent 
several  weeks,  it  seemed  expedient  to  bend  our 
course  towards  home.  My  father  was  affected 
with  fresh  symptoms  of  a  disorder  to  which  he 
had  been  long  subject ;  and  he  thought  it  would 
not  be  prudent  to  continue  his  visit  any  longer. 
Under  these  circumstances,  we  could  not  suffer 
him  and  my  sister  to  proceed  on  their  journey 
alone.  Had  he  been  as  well  as  usual,  it  would 
have  been  very  agreeable  to  us  to  have  remained 
longer  at  Bethlehem ;  and  particularly  to  have 
visited  the  place  of  my  nativity,  which  was 
about  fifty  miles  further  in  the  interior  of  the 
country.  This  visit  we  had  all  contemplated ; 
and  purposed  to  set  off  for  the  place  in  a  few 
days.  But  my  father's  sudden  indisposition 
made  it  necessary  to  relinquish  our  views  entire- 
ly. Had  we  executed  our  purpose,  I  have  no 
doubt  that  the  visit  would  have  been  to  me 
peculiarly  interesting,  and  attended  with  emo- 


59 

tions  of  a  pleasing  and  serious  nature ;  and  I 
eould  not,  indeed,  avoid  anticipating  them  in 
some  degree.  To  have  viewed  the  spot,  where 
I  first  felt  the  blessings  of  existence ;  and  where 
my  dear  parents  had  extended  their  early  cares 
over  me,  and  had  commenced  their  settlement  in 
life;  must  have  excited  in  me  sensations  highly 
gratifying.  To  have  reflected  on  the  superin- 
tendence of  Divine  Providence,  from  the  first 
hour  of  my  existence,  through  a  period  of  nearly 
forty  years;  on  the  numberless  preservations 
from  danger  which,  through  that  course  of  time, 
had  threatened  my  life,  or  my  happiness ;  and 
on  the  many  positive  blessings  with  which  I  had 
so  long  been  favoured;  could  riot,  I  believe, 
have  failed  to  excite  a  lively  and  extraordinary 
sense  of  the  unmerited  goodness  of  God  to  me ; 
and  would  probably  have  proved  a  peculiarly 
animating  source  of  humble  and  grateful  recol- 
lection.— But  how  pleasing  and  useful  soever 
this  visit  to  Swetara  might  have  been,  pru- 
dence required  us  to  give  it  up ;  and  we  pro- 
ceeded, by  easy  stages,  towards  New  York. 
There  we  safely  arrived,  after  an  agreeable 
journey ;  in  which  my  father's  health  had  not 
materially  suffered,  by  the  fatigue  and  exposure 
which  he  encountered,  and  which  to  him  were 
unusual. 


60 

This  seems  to  be  a  proper  stage  for  closing 
the  present  letter.  My  next  will  enter  on  a 
period,  which  was  particularly  interesting  to  me, 
and  which  was  occupied  in  a  manner  very  differ- 
ent from  my  expectations. 

I  am,  with  due  respect,  &c. 


61 


LETTER    IV, 


My  dear  Friend, 

IT  is  a  common  and  just  obser- 
vation, that  the  blessings  of  this  life,  however 
numerous  and  important,  lose  their  relish,  when 
we  are  deprived  of  health.  Many  of  them  are 
then  imbittered,  and  others  are  totally  disre- 
garded. We  are  therefore  naturally  solicitous 
to  recover  a  possession  so  pleasing  in  itself,  and 
so  necessary  to  the  enjoyment  of  other  pleasures. 
I  was  the  more  sensible  of  the  value  of  this 
blessing,  because  I  had  lost  it;  and  because  I 
possessed  many  others,  which  I  found  were,  in  a 
great  degree,  dependent  upon  this.  I  thought, 
indeed,  that  nothing  besides  this  desirable  object, 
was  wanting,  to  render  me  very  happy.  But, 
without  doubt,  I  deceived  myself,  in  the  indul- 
gence of  this  fond  sentiment.  Had  I  possessed 
health,  joined  to  all  the  means  of  happiness  with 
which  I  was  surrounded,  it  is  probable  that  some 
unforeseen  event,  something  in  myself,  or  in 
others  with  whom  I  was  connected,  would  soon 
have  overcast  the  pleasant  scene;  and  convinced 


62 

me  practically,  that  unmixed  enjoyment  does  not 
belong  to  this  state  of  existence. — There  is,  how- 
ever, enough  to  be  enjoyed ;  enough  to  make  us 
truly  thankful  to  Divine  Providence.  I  was 
therefore  anxious  for  my  recovery,  and  omitted 
no  promising  means  to  obtain  it,  whilst  life  was 
yet  in  its  prime,  and  the  value  of  health  was 
proportionably  enhanced. 

When  we  were  again  settled  at  Bellevue,  we 
had  rather  mournfully  to  reflect  on  the  little 
benefit,  if  any,  which  my  health  had  derived 
from  our  summer  excursion ;  and  we  naturally 
turned  our  attention  to  other  means  of  relief  that 
might  promise  success.  During  the  course  of 
my  indisposition,  I  had  found  that  I  was  gener- 
ally better  when  the  weather  was  cold :  a  tem- 
porary bracing  was  commonly  the  effect  of  the 
winter  season.  But  we  had  observed  that  every 
succeeding  summer  took  from  me  more  than  the 
winter  had  given.  The  prospect  was  therefore 
discouraging.  Under  these  circumstances,  I  con- 
sulted one  of  the  first  physicians  of  the  country, 
who  happened  at  that  time  to  be  at  New  York. 
He  paid  a  friendly  attention  to  my  situation : 
and  after  maturely  considering  the  case,  advised 
me  to  remove  to  a  climate,  where  the  summers 
are  more  temperate  and  less  relaxing;  and  where, 
consequently,  I  might  not  lose,  in  warm  weather, 
the  bracing  effects  produced  by  the  rigours  of 


63 

winter.  From  what  he  knew  of  Yorkshire,  in 
England,  he  thought  some  parts  of  it  might 
prove  a  proper  situation.  On  the  whole,  he  re- 
commended to  me,  in  a  sensible  and  affectionate 
letter  which  I  received  from  him,  to  make  the 
experiment ;  and  he  expressed  an  earnest  hope, 
that  it  might  be  blessed  with  success.  He  thought 
that  my  disorder  was  of  such  a  nature,  that  me- 
dicines would  not  be  proper  for  me :  "  at  any 
rate,"  he  said,  "  I  would  advise  you  not  to  take 
much  medicine."  This  advice  was  consonant 
with  the  views  and  practice  which  I  had  long 
adopted ;  and  confirmed  me  in  my  determina- 
tion. For  more  than  twenty  years,  I  have  al- 
most entirely  declined  the  use  of  medicines :  and 
to  this  I  attribute,  in  a  great  measure,  the  good 
appetite,  and  unbroken  rest  at  nights,  which, 
during  that  period,  I  have  generally  enjoyed. 
The  natural  tone  of  my  stomach  has  not  heen 
injured  by  the  operation  of  drugs,  nor  any  new 
disorder  superinduced.  I,  however^  think  that 
medicines  are  sometimes  of  great  use :  the  dis- 
covery and  due  application  of  them,  are  a  bless- 
ing to  mankind.  In  my  particular  case,  they 
would,  I  believe,  have  been  injurious. 

After  deliberately  considering  the  advice  of 
my  physician,  and  the  importance  of  the  under- 
taking, we  were  fully  convinced  that  it  was  ex- 
pedient to  try  the  effect  of  a  more  favourable 


64 

climate,  and  to  make  a  short  residence  in  Eng- 
land. Dear  as  were  our  relatives  and  friends, 
and  our  native  land,  we  resolved  to  forego  the 
enjoyment  of  them.  But  hope  cheered  us  with 
the  prospect,  that  the  separation  would  not  he 
long;  and  that  we  should  return  to  them,  with 
renewed  health  and  spirits,  and  capacities  of 
greater  happiness  in  their  society.  My  dear  wife 
did  not  hesitate  a  moment,  in  resolving  to  ac- 
company me  to  a  distant  country;  and  to  render 
me  every  aid,  which  her  affection,  and  solicitude 
for  my  happiness  could  suggest. 

Soon  after  our  determination  was  made,  we 
prepared  for  the  voyage.  The  trying  scene  now 
commenced  of  taking  leave  of  our  relations  and 
friends.  Many  of  them  accompanied  us  to  the 
ship,  in  the  cabin  of  which  we  had  a  most  solemn 
parting.  An  eminent  minister  was  present  at 
this  time,  for  whom  we  had  a  particular  esteem 
and  regard,  and  who  prayed  fervently  on  the 
occasion.  It  was  a  deeply  affecting  time ;  and,  I 
trust,  produced  salutary  impressions  on  all  our 
minds.  Our  feelings,  at  the  moment  of  separa- 
tion, may  be  more  easily  conceived  than  de- 
scribed. But  satisfied  with  the  propriety  of  our 
undertaking,  and  consoled  by  the  hope  of 
success,  our  minds  gradually  became  tranquil 
and  resigned.  With  many,  if  not  with  all,  of 
those  beloved  connexions,  we  parted  never  to  see 


65 

them  agnin,  in  this  life:  for  many  of  them  have 
since  been  translated  to  the  world  of  spirits. 
But  we  humbly  trust,  that  the  separation  will 
not  be  perpetual;  that,  through  redeeming  mer- 
cy and  love,  we  shall  be  again  united  to  virtuous 
connexions,  and  happily  join  with  them,  and  the 
blessed  of  all  generations,  in  glorifying  our  heav- 
enly Father,  and  joyfully  serving  him  for  ever, 
with  enlarged  minds  and  purified  affections. 

We  embarked  in  a  commodious  ship,  near  the 
close  of  the  year  1784  ;  and,  after  a  prosperous 
voyage  of  about  five  weeks,  landed  at  Lyming- 
ton.  Near  the  conclusion  of  the  voyage,  we  nar- 
rowly escaped  some  very  dangerous  rocks,  which 
would,  in  all  probability,  have  proved  fatal  to  us, 
if  we  had  struck  upon  them.  Thus  preserved 
by  the  care  of  a  gracious  Providence,  we  had 
fresh  cause  to  be  humbly  thankful  to  God,  and 
to  be  encouraged  to  trust  in  his  goodness,  for  fu- 
ture preservation  and  direction. 

In  contemplating  the  place  where  we  were  to 
reside,  during  our  continuance  in  England,  it 
was  our  frequent  and  special  desire,  that  our  lot 
might  be  cast  in  the  neighbourhood  and  society 
of  religious  and  exemplary  persons ;  from  whom 
we  might  derive  encouragement  to  the  practice 
of  virtue.  We  had  lived  long  enough  to  per- 
ceive, how  strongly  the  human  mind  is  influen- 
ced, and  how  apt  it  is  to  be  moulded,  by  the  dis- 
11 


6(3 

positions  and  pursuits  of  those  with  whom  it  is  in- 
timately connected.  We  had  felt  the  danger  of 
intercourse  with  persons,  who  seemed  to  make 
the  pleasures  of  this  life  the  great  object  of  their 
attention;  and  we  had  derived  comfort,  and 
some  degree  of  religious  strength,  from  the  soci- 
ety and  example  of  good  and  pious  persons.  In 
this  desire  of  being  settled  favourably  for  the 
cultivation  of  our  best  interests,  we  had  the  hap- 
piness of  being  gratified ;  and  we  consider  this 
privilege,  which  we  have  now  enjoyed  for  more 
than  twenty  years,  as  one  of  the  greatest  bles- 
sings of  our  lives. 

It  may  not  be  improper  to  mention  in  this 
place,  that  when  we  left  our  native  shores,  we 
fondly  supposed,  that  in  the  course  of  two  years, 
my  health  might  be  so  established,  as  to  enable 
us  to  return  to  our  friends  and  country.  This 
term  was  the  utmost  boundary  we  had  assigned 
for  our  absence  from  home.  How  short  sighted 
is  the  mind  of  man !  How  little  do  we  know 
of  the  future,  and  of  the  events  which  are  to 
occupy  it !  Two  and  twenty  years  have  passed 
away  since  we  left  our  native  land,  and  little 
hope  remains  of  our  ever  being  able  to  visit  it 
again.  But  resignation  is  our  duty.  And  this 
should  be  the  more  cheerful,  as  we  have  been  so 
long  preserved  together  by  Divine  Providence, 
in  this  happy  country;  where  we  have  been 


67 

abundantly  blessed,  and  for  which  we  can  never 
be  sufficiently  grateful. 

Our  attachment  to  England  was  founded  on 
many  pleasing  associations.  In  particular,  I  had 
strong  prepossessions  in  favour  of  a  residence  in 
this  country ;  because  I  was  ever  partial  to  its 
political  constitution,  arid  the  mildness  and  wis- 
dom of  its  general  system  of  laws.  I  knew  that 
under  this  excellent  government,  life,  property, 
reputation,  civil  and  religious  liberty,  are  happily 
protected ;  and  that  the  general  character  and 
virtue  of  its  inhabitants,  take  their  complexion 
from  the  nature  of  their  constitution  and  laws. 
On  leaving  my  native  country,  there  was  not, 
therefore,  any  land,  on  which  I  could  cast  my 
eyes  with  so  much  pleasure ;  nor  is  there  any, 
which  could  have  afforded  me  so  much  real  sat- 
isfaction, as  I  have  found  in  Great  Britain. — May 
its  political  fabric,  which  has  stood  the  test  of 
ages,  and  long  attracted  the  admiration  of  the 
world,  be  supported  and  perpetuated  by  Divine 
Providence !  And  may  the  hearts  of  Britons  be 
grateful  for  this  blessing,  and  for  many  others 
by  which  they  are  eminently  distinguished  ! 

I  now  return  to  the  narrative.  In  a  few  days 
after  our  landing,  we  reached  London.  Here 
we  were  cheered  with  the  society  of 'a  number 
of  our  friends,  whom  we  had  known,  in  the  visit 
which  we  made  to  this  country  in  the  year  1771. 


68 

We  continued  in  and  near  London,  about  six 
weeks ;  and  then  proceeded  for  Yorkshire.  Some 
of  our  friends  advised  us  to  fix  our  residence  at 
Pontefract,  others  at  Knaresborough.  and  others 
at  Richmond,  Settle,  or  upon  the  Wolds.  We, 
however,  thought  it  prudent  to  visit  a  number 
of  places,  before  we  concluded  to  fix  upon  any 
one.  At  length,  we  came  to  York :  and  whether 
we  were  influenced  by  the  association  of  names, 
by  the  pleasantness  of  the  surrounding  country, 
or  by  other  motives,  we  felt  some  partiality  for 
the  place.  But  it  appeared  to  be  difficult  to 
procure  a  suitable  residence  in  the  vicinity  :  and 
we  left  York  to  visit  Knaresborough,  Harrogate, 
and  the  neighbourhood  of  Leeds.  Soon  after 
we  had  set  off,  we  observed,  about  a  mile  from 
the  city,  in  a  small  village  called  Holdgate,  a 
house  and  garden  very  pleasantly  and  healthfully 
situated.  The  place  struck  our  minds  so  agree- 
ably, that  we  stopped  the  carriage,  for  a  few 
minutes  to  survey  it.  The  more  we  observed 
the  house  and  its  appendages,  the  more  we  liked 
them  ;  and  we  concluded  that  if  they  could  be 
obtained,  they  would  suit  us  better  than  any 
other  we  had  seen.  With  this  reflection,  we 
passed  on,  and  continued  our  journey.  At 
Knaresborough  and  Harrogate,  we  stayed  a 
short  time  :  but  neither  of  these  places  appeared 
to  coincide  with  our  views,  and  we  went  forward 


69 


to  Leeds.  From  this  place  I  wrote  to  a  friend 
at  York,  and  requested  him  to  inquire,  whether 
the  house  near  that  city,  which  had  so  pleasantly 
impressed  us,  could  be  either  hired  or  purchased, 
and  on  what  terms.  My  friend  informed  me, 
that  the  owner  of  this  estate  resided  upon  it,  that 
he  had  considerably  improved  it,  and  that  it  was 
perfectly  to  his  mind ;  so  that  he  intended  to  oc- 
cupy it  for  the  remainder  of  his  life.  All  pros- 
pect of  acquiring  this  situation  being  thus  cut 
off,  we  employed  ourselves  in  looking  at  several 
places  near  Leeds.  But  our  attachment  to  York 
still  continued,  and  after  several  weeks'  absence 
from  it,  we  returned,  with  the  hope  that  some 
suitable  place,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  this  city, 
would  yet  be  found.  That  we  might  have  the 
fairer  opportunity  for  selecting  such  a  residence, 
I  hired  for  six  months  a  house  ready  furnished, 
in  York;  and  occasionally  made  inquiry  for  a 
situation  in  its  vicinity.  About  five  months  of 
the  time  elapsed  before  any  place  occurred  which 
was  adapted  to  our  wishes.  At  this  period,  the 
house  and  premises  which  had  appeared  to  us  so 
desirable,  were  advertised  for  sale.  The  owner, 
who  was  an  officer  in  the  navy,  had  unexpect- 
edly an  offer  made  to  him  of  a  ship  on  a  remote 
station;  and  being  pleased  with  the  appoint- 
ment, he  concluded  to  take  his  family  with  him, 
and  to  dispose  of  his  property  at  Holdgate.  I 


70 


did  not  hesitate  to  apply  as  a  purchaser;  and,  in 
a  short  time  the  contract  was  made,  and  the 
estate  secured  to  me.  We  soon  removed  into 
our  new  residence;  and  found  it  to  answer,  in 
every  respect,  the  expectations  we  had  formed. 
It  is  healthy,  pleasant,  commodious,  and  unites 
the  advantages  of  both  town  and  country.  This 
little  pleasing  settlement  has  lost  none  of  its 
comforts  in  our  view,  though  we  have  now  en- 
joyed it  two  and  twenty  years.  I  hope  that  I 
have  not  dwelt  too  long  on  the  circumstance  of 
selecting  a  residence  at  Holdgate.  This  place 
has  been  our  habitation,  for  so  great  a  portion  of 
our  lives,  and  has  contributed  so  much  to  our 
comfort  and  enjoyment,  that  I  could  not  pass 
over  the  recital,  without  some  marked  attention. 
I  can  not  but  trace,  and  gratefully  acknowledge, 
the  goodness  of  Divine  Providence,  in  the  cir- 
cumstances which  led  us  to  this  auspicious 
residence. 

Though  I  have  described  the  house  and  garden 
at  Holdgate,  as  a  desirable  possession,  yet  it  is 
by  no  means  a  large  or  a  showy  one.  It  is,  how- 
ever, one  that  accords  with  our  own  taste,  and 
desires.  My  views  and  wishes,  with  regard  to 
property,  were,  in  every  period  of  life,  contained 
within  a  very  moderate  compass.  I  was  early 
persuaded  that,  though  "  a  competence  is  vital 
to  content,"  I  ought  not  to  annex  to  that  term 


71 

the  idea  of  much  property.  And  I  determined 
that  when  I  should  acquire  enough  to  enable  me 
to  maintain  and  provide  for  my  family,  in  a  re- 
spectable and  moderate  manner,  and  this  accord- 
ing to  real  arid  rational,  not  imaginary  and  fan- 
tastic wants,  and  a  little  to  spare  for  the  neces- 
sities of  others;  I  would  decline  the  pursuits  of 
property,  and  devote  a  great  part  of  my  time, 
in  some  way  or  other,  to  the  benefit  of  my  fel- 
low-creatures, within  the  sphere  of  my  abilities 
to  serve  them.  I  perceived  that  the  desire  of 
great  possessions,  generally  expands  with  the 
gradual  acquisition,  and  the  full  attainment  of 
them :  and  I  imagined,  that  charity  and  a  gen- 
erous application,  do  not  sufficiently  corres- 
pond with  the  increase  of  property.  I  thought 
too,  that  procuring  great  wealth,  has  a  tendency 
to  produce  an  elated  independence  of  mind,  little 
connected  with  that  humility  which  is  the  ground 
of  all  our  virtues ;  that  a  busy  and  anxious  pur- 
suit of  it,  often  excludes  views  and  reflections 
of  infinite  importance,  and  leaves  but  little  time 
to  acquire  that  treasure,  which  would  make  us 
rich  indeed.  I  was  inclined  to  think,  that  a  wish 
for  personal  distinction,  a  desire  of  providing  too 
abundantly  for  their  children,  and  a  powerful 
habit  of  accumulation,  are  the  motives  which 
commonly  actuate  men,  in  the  acquisition  of 
great  wealth.  The  strenuous  endeavours  of 


72 

many  persons  to  vindicate  this  pursuit,  on  the 
ground,  that  the  idea  of  a  competency  is  inde- 
finite, and  that  the  more  we  gain,  the  more  good 
we  may  do  with  it,  did  not  make  much  impres- 
sion upon  me.  I  fancied  that,  in  general,  ex. 
perience  did  not  correspond  with  this  plausible 
reasoning;  and  I  was  persuaded  that  a  truly 
sincere  mind  could  be  at  no  loss  to  discern  the 
just  limits  between  a  safe  and  competent  por- 
tion, and  a  dangerous  profusion,  of  the  good 
things  of  life.  These  views  of  the  subject,  I 
reduced  to  practice;  and  terminated  my  mercan- 
tile concerns,  when  1  had  acquired  a  moderate 
competency. 

By  what  I  have  said  on  this  occasion,  I  do 
not  mean  to  cast  any  reflection  on  the  prudent 
efforts  of  persons,  who  have  large  families  to 
support  and  provide  for;  or  who,  instead  of 
adding  to  the  superfluous  heap,  apply  their  gains 
to  the  relief  of  want,  the  instruction  of  ignorance, 
or,  in  any  other  way,  to  the  substantial  benefit 
of  their  fellow-creatures.  I  am,  indeed,  far  from 
being  disposed  to  censure  or  disapprove  the  ex- 
ertions of  such  persons,  in  the  steady  pursuit  of 
business,  and  the  acquisition  of  property.  My 
view,  in  the  remarks  which  I  have  made  on  this 
topic,  is,  rather  to  justify  my  own  determination 
to  withdraw  seasonably  from  the  pursuit  of  pro- 
perty, than  to  reflect  on  the  conduct  of  those 


73 

who,  with  proper  inducements,  think  it  their 
duty  to  endeavour  to  enlarge  their  possessions. 
This  is  a  subject,  on  which  it  is  certainly  more 
charitable  and  becoming,  to  suggest  hints,  for 
the  consideration  of  others,  when  we  may  have 
occasion,  and  think  it  prudent,  so  to  do,  than 
presumptuously  to  make  decisions,  respecting 
their  motives  and  conduct. 

When  I  first  settled  at  Holdgate,  my  general 
health  had  been,  in  some  degree,  improved;  and 
1  was  able  to  walk  in  the  garden,  without  assist- 
ance, several  times  in  the  course  of  a  day.  This 
increase  of  strength,  and  ability  to  walk  out  in 
the  open  air,  were  highly  pleasing;  and  gave  a 
fresh  spring  to  our  hopes,  that  the  period  was 
not  very  far  distant,  when  we  might  return  to 
our  native  country  and  our  friends,  with  the 
blessings  of  established  health,  and  all  the  com- 
forts which  follow  in  its  train.  But  these  cheer- 
ing prospects  did  not  long  continue.  The  exer- 
cise in  my  garden  was  so  delightful,  arid  appeared 
to  be  so  beneficial  to  me,  that  I  often  indulged 
myself  in  it ;  till,  at  length,  I  found  my  little 
stock  of  newly  acquired  strength,  began  to  de- 
cline, and  that  the  former  weakness  of  the  mus- 
cles returned.  This  was  not  the  effect  of  great 
and  immoderate  exertion ;  but  proceeded  from 
my  not  knowing  how  very  limited  my  bodily 
powers  were,  and  from  not  keeping  within  those 
12 


74 

limits.  I  soon  perceived  that  it  was  necessary 
to  give  up  my  little  excursions  in  the  garden ; 
but  I  continued  to  walk  occasionally  about  the 
room,  as  much  as  I  was  well  able  to  bear,  know- 
ing the  danger  of  resigning  myself  to  a  state  of 
inactivity.  This  practice  was  kept  up  in  a 
greater  or  less  degree,  till  it  became  inconvenient 
and  painful.  A  walk  even  from  my  seat  to  the 
window,  at  last  overcame  me,  and  produced  a 
distressing  weariness  and  fatigue,  which  pervad- 
ed the  whole  animal  system.  I  occasionally  made 
repeated  efforts  to  overcome  these  effects :  but 
all  to  no  purpose ;  the  more  I  persisted  in  my 
exertions,  the  more  painful  was  my  situation. 
I  perceived  that  I  was  always  better,  and  more 
at  my  ease,  when  I  continued  sitting.  This  in- 
duced me  to  try  the  experiment  of  relinquishing 
all  attempts  at  walking,  and  to  keep  to  my  seat 
through  the  course  of  the  day.  The  result  was, 
in  every  respect,  beneficial.  The  soreness  of  the 
muscles  abated;  the  little  tone  which  remained 
in  them,  was  not  disturbed  or  overstretched ; 
and  I  enjoyed  an  easy  and  tolerable  state  of 
health. 

I  made  it  a  point,  however,  to  ride  out  daily 
in  my  carriage :  and  this,  doubtless,  contributed 
to  counteract  the  injurious  effects  which  would 
have  resulted  from  constant  inaction.  The  mo- 
tion of  the  carriage,  the  change  of  scene,  differ- 


75 

ence  of  air,  and  the  busy  or  the  cheerful  faces 
of  my  fellow-creatures,  produced  a  pleasing  ef- 
fect on  my  mind,  and  greatly  tended  to  reconcile 
me  to  the  privation  of  other  exercises.  Though 
I  had  not  sufficient  strength  to  get  into  a  car- 
riage by  the  usual  method,  I  have  always  been 
able  to  effect  it,  by  means  of  a  board  laid  nearly 
level  from  the  garden  gate  to  the  step  of  the 
carriage.  But  I  have  repeatedly  found  this  ex- 
ertion to  be  the  full  extent  of  my  powers.  I 
can,  however,  generally  accomplish  it,  with  little 
or  no  inconvenience.  This  mode  of  getting  into 
the  carriage,  has  often  excited  the  curiosity  of 
persons  who  were  passing  at  the  time,  and  given 
rise  to  strange  surmises,  and  to  some  ridiculous 
stories.  Inability  to  account  for  facts  is  an  un- 
easy state  of  mind ;  to  get  rid  of  which  many 
people  are  apt  to  suppose  or  admit  causes,  which, 
how  imaginary  soever  they  may  be,  are  yet  suf- 
ficient to  prevent  the  trouble  of  further  investi- 
gation. I  must,  however,  allow,  that,  in  my 
own  case,  the  appearance  of  general  health,  and 
the  ease  with  which  I  moved  on  the  board,  might 
very  naturally  induce  a  belief,  that  I  was  capable 
of  greater  exertions,  and  that  the  weakness  ex- 
isted more  in  the  mind  than  in  the  body.  If,  un- 
der a  change  of  circumstances,  I  had  been  the 
observer,  instead  of  the  person  observed,  I  might 
very  probably  have  formed  a  similar  judgment. 


76 

The  state  of  weakness  and  confinement  to 
which  I  was  now  reduced,  would,  at  some  periods 
of  my  life,  have  been  almost  insupportable.  But 
my  infirmities  had  increased  upon  me  gradually, 
and  I  had  the  happiness  to  perceive  that  they 
might  be  made  to  conduce  to  my  future  and  im- 
mortal interests.  I  had  many  enjoyments  and 
advantages  yet  left  to  me :  I  was,  in  general, 
free  from  pain ;  I  could  take  a  little  daily  ex- 
ercise ;  my  appetite  was  good ;  and  my  rest  at 
nights  commonly  sound  and  uninterrupted.  I 
had  the  society  of  worthy  and  intelligent  friends, 
converse  with  books,  and  a  regular  correspond- 
ence with  my  distant  connexions.  I  was  able, 
too,  to  attend  public  religious  worship,  once  or 
twice  in  the  week,  which  I  consider  as  an  inval- 
uable privilege.  There  still  remained  to  me  the 
great  blessing  of  an  affectionate,  faithful  friend, 
my  beloved  wife ;  whose  solicitude  to  promote 
my  comfort,  in  all  respects,  has  been  lively  and 
uniform,  through  every  period  of  our  union. 
Thus  surrounded  with  benefits  so  important,  it 
would  have  been  impious  to  complain,  or  to  de- 
plore my  condition.  It  became  me  rather,  to 
number  my  blessings :  and  I  humbly  trust  that, 
through  Divine  grace,  I  have  been  enabled  cheer- 
fully to  submit  to  my  lot,  and  to  be  thankful 
for  the  mercies,  the  unmerited  mercies,  which 
have  been  bestowed  upon  me. 


77 

In  the  summer  of  1786, 1  met  with  a  great 
loss,  in  the  decease  of  my  father.  He  had  been 
painfully  affected,  with  a  cough  and  weakness 
of  the  stomach,  for  more  than  thirty  years;  and 
the  disorder  at  length  increased  so  much,  that 
nature  could  no  longer  support  the  conflict. — In 
a  letter  which  I  received  from  his  brother,  my 
worthy  uncle  John  Murray,  there  are  some  cir- 
cumstances of  his  death,  which  are  so  interesting 
to  me,  that  they  may  not  improperly  be  men- 
tioned in  this  place.  The  circumstances  alluded 
to,  are  contained  in  the  following  extracts  from 
the  letter.  "Your  much  esteemed  father  de- 
parted this  life  the  22d  of  July,  1786,  about  five 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  with  all  his  children  in 
the  house,  yourself  excepted.  About  four  weeks 
ago,  without  any  apparent  cause,  but  the  natural 
increase  of  the  disorder  which  he  had  long  had, 
he  was  confined  to  his  room,  and  complained  of 
pain  in  his  head  and  breast,  and  that  his  cough 
grew  more  difficult  and  painful.  Soon  after,  in 
conversing  with  him,  he  told  me  that  his  dissolu- 
tion was  near  at  hand  ;  and  he  thanked  his  God, 
that,  in  the  whole  course  of  his  life,  he  had  never 
found  himself  so  much  resigned  as  at  that  time ; 
and  that  it  was  not  his  wish  to  live  longer.  In 
this  sincere  composure  of  mind  he  continued, 
perfectly  sensible  till  the  moment  of  his  death, 
which  took  place  at  my  side,  and  without  a  groan. 


78 

About  three  days  before  his  decease,  your  letter 
by  the  packet  came  to  hand.  It  was  read  to 
him ;  and  finding  you  were  recovered,  in  some 
degree,  from  the  relapse  you  had  fallen  into,  it 
seemed  to  afford  him  real  pleasure.  He  thank- 
ed God  for  all  his  mercies ;  and  said  :  4  This  is 
the  last  time  I  shall  hear  from  my  dear  son.' ' 

Thus  peacefully  left  the  world  my  dear  and 
affectionate  father,  in  the  sixty-fifth  year  of  his 
age  ;  and,  I  trust,  exchanged  this  life  for  one  infi- 
nitely better. 

After  I  left  America,  my  father,  during  the 
remainder  of  his  life,  kindly  transacted  all  my 
business ;  and  obliged  me  with  a  regular  corres- 
pondence, from  which  I  derived  much  comfort 
and  satisfaction.  The  religious  state  of  mind 
which  his  letters  demonstrated,  under  the  pres- 
sure of  years  and  infirmities,  afforded  me  pecu- 
liar pleasure  at  the  time ;  and  continues  to  be  a 
source  of  grateful  recollection.  The  loss  which 
I  bad  sustained,  in  being  deprived  of  my  fathers 
kind  offices,  my  truly  valuable  brother,  John 
Murray,  was  studious  to  repair.  For  more  than 
twenty  years,  he  has  attended  to  my  concerns  in 
America;  and  maintained  a  correspondence  with 
me,  in  the  most  brotherly  and  affectionate  man- 
ner. Sympathizing  with  us,  in  our  long  and 
distant  separation  from  our  near  connexions  and 
our  native  country,  he  has  been  kindly  solicitous 


79 


to  diminish  our  anxieties,  by  a  great  variety  of 
communications.  We  owe  much  of  our  relief 
and  consolation,  to  his  unwearied  attention,  arid 
to  the  proofs  he  has  given  us  of  his  esteem  and 
love  during  our  long  residence  in  England. 
We  were  affectionately  attached  to  each  other, 
in  early  life :  this  attachment  has  not  only  con- 
tinued, but  it  has  increased  with  time ;  and  I 
firmly  trust  it  will  remain,  and  brighten  to  the 
latest  period  of  our  lives.  From  my  dear  sisters, 
1  have  also  received,  in  this  long  absence,  many 
testimonies  of  their  sincere  regard  and  solicitude 
for  my  welfare.  These  could  not  fail  of  being 
soothing  to  us ;  and  they  tended  to  cherish  the 
feelings  of  mutual  affection. 

The  relation  which  subsists  between  children 
of  the  same  family,  and  between  other  persons 
very  nearly  connected,  is  of  a  peculiarly  tender 
and  endearing  kind  ;  and  it  should  be  cherished, 
not  only  as  a  duty,  but  as  one  of  the  most  lively 
and  interesting  sources  of  our  enjoyments.  It 
produces  and  augments  affections  which  may  be 
continually  exercised,  because  their  objects  are 
often  before  us :  and,  by  perpetual  offices  of  love, 
and  solicitude  for  one  an  other's  welfare,  it  ac 
customs  the  heart  to  these  emotions,  and  pre- 
pares it  for  extending  its  charities  to  all  around. 
In  this  manner,  some  of  the  finest  feelings  of  our 
nature,  may  be  matured  and  disposed,  on  all 


80 

proper  occasions,  to  expand  themselves  to  ob- 
jects, far  and  near,  in  substantial  acts  of  kindness, 
compassion,  and  benevolence. — This  expansive 
nature  of  the  affections,  is  so  aptly  and  beauti- 
fully illustrated  by  a  celebrated  poet,  that  it  may 
not  be  improper  to  cite  the  illustration  here. 

"  God  loves  from  whole  to  parts  :  but  human  soul 
Must  rise  from  individual  to  the  whole. 
Self-love  but  serves  the  virtuous  mind  to  wake, 
As  the  small  pebble  stirs  the  peaceful  lake  : 
The  centre  mov'd,  a  circle  straight  succeeds, 
An  other  still,  and  still  an  other  spreads. 
Friend,  parent,  neighbour,  first  it  will  embrace ; 
His  country  next ;  and  next  all  human  race  : 
Wide  and  more  wide,  th'  o'erflowings  of  the  mind 
Take  ev'ry  creature  in,  of  ev'ry  kind. 
Earth  smiles  around,  with  boundless  bounty  bless'd ; 
And  Heav'n  beholds  its  image  in  his  breast." 

But  how  beneficial  soever  may  be  the  tendency 
of  this  domestic  and  social  intercourse,  I  am  in- 
clined to  believe  that  its  happy  effects  are  often 
limited,  and  sometimes  lost,  for  want  of  due  re- 
flection and  encouragement.  Enjoyments  which 
are  very  familiar,  and  of  daily  or  hourly  occur- 
rence, are  apt  to  pass  by  us  unnoticed :  and  fre- 
quently from  this  circumstance,  they  almost  lose 
their  nature,  and  become  nearly,  if  not  altogether, 
uninteresting.  It  is  therefore  of  high  importance 
to  our  virtue  and  happiness,  that  we  should  often 
call  ourselves  to  account,  for  the  estimate,  and 


81 


the  use,  we  make  of  the  blessings  with  which 
we  are  surrounded.  Our  self  examination,  with 
regard  to  the  subject  under  consideration,  would 
perhaps  be  rendered  more  effectual,  by  an  indi- 
vidual inquiry,  how  far  we  have  attended  to  the 
means  of  augmenting  our  domestic  and  social 
enjoyments.  Inquiries  similar  to  those  which 
follow,  seriously  put  to  ourselves,  would  present 
these  enjoyments  in  lively  and  impressive  points 
of  view.  Are  we  duly  sensible  how  happy  we  re- 
ally are,  in  the  possession  of  affectionate  relations, 
and  in  the  constant  interchange  of  kind  offices? 
Do  we  consider  properly,  how  much  we  depend 
on  their  attachment  and  love,  for  the  numerous 
and  the  daily  pleasures  we  enjoy?  how  often  we 
have  experienced  their  sympathy  and  aid,  when 
we  have  had  to  encounter  affliction  or  disappoint- 
ments? and  how  ready  they  would  be  to  fly  to 
our  assistance  again,  if  we  should  need  their  con- 
solation and  support?  Do  we  sometimes  picture 
in  our  minds,  the  wants  and  distresses  which  we 
should  feel,  if  we  were  deprived  of  these  ten- 
der and  faithful  friends?  and  reflect,  that  when 
they  are  lost,  they  are  lost  forever  to  us  in  this 
world? — It  is  scarcely  possible,  that  repeated 
examinations  of  this  nature,  should  not  be  pro- 
ductive of  the  happiest  effects,  by  teaching  us 
continually  to  value  and  improve  our  present 
privileges.  A  similar  process  of  reflection,  with 

13 


respect  to  health  of  mind  and  body;  a  competence 
of  property;  fair  reputation;  civil  and  religious 
liberty;  the  light  of  Christianity;  an  exemption 
from  numerous  evils;  and  every  other  favour 
conferred  upon  us  by  Divine  Providence ;  would 
not  only  refine  and  exalt  these  blessings  in  our 
estimation,  but  affect  our  hearts  with  more  fer- 
vent gratitude  to  the  Giver  of  all  Good,  for  the 
continuance  of  his  bounties,  both  temporal  and 
spiritual.  That  I  may  be  much  more  studious 
than  I  ever  have  been,  to  number  and  improve 
my  blessings;  and  to  avoid  the  reproaches  of 
my  own  heart,  for  suffering  them  to  pass  by  me 
unacknowledged;  is  my  sincere  and  earnest 
desire. 

I  am  affectionately,  &c. 


83 


LETTER    V, 


My  dear  Friend, 

I  HAVE  often  considered  it  as 
a  special  privilege,  demanding  my  grateful  ac- 
knowledgments to  Divine  Providence,  that  my 
afflictions  have  admitted  of  great  alleviation;  and 
that  they  have  been  laid  upon  me,  with  a  most 
lenient  hand.  When  I  became  confined,  and 
incapable  of  but  very  little  bodily  exercise,  I  was 
not  wholly  deprived  of  every  species  of  exertion. 
I  could  still  employ  myself  in  reading,  in  writing, 
and  in  conversation.  My  mind  was  preserved 
free  and  active.  I  might  therefore  hope  to  be 
exercised  in  doing  something  that  would  be  use- 
ful to  myself  and  others:  something  that  would 
agreeably  employ  my  mental  powers ;  and  pre- 
vent that  tedium  and  irritability,  which  bodily 
infirmities  too  often  occasion.  This  might  be 
accomplished  in  various  ways ;  and  I  ventured 
to  believe  it  might,  in  part,  be  effected  by  a  pub- 
lication which  I  had  in  view,  and  which  1  pre- 
sumed would  be  interesting  to  many  readers.  In 


84 

the  early  part  of  my  life,  as  well  as  in  its  suc- 
ceeding periods,!  had  a  lively  pleasure  and  satis- 
faction, in  perusing  the  sentiments  of  eminent 
and  virtuous  persons,  on  the  subject  of  religion 
and  futurity,  when  they  approached  the  close  of 
life.  From  men  who  had  known  the  world,  and 
who  were  qualified,  and  disposed,  to  give  a  true 
estimate  of  its  nature  and  enjoyments,  and  whom 
we  could  not  suspect  of  dissimulation  at  that 
awful  period,  much  important  instruction,  1  con- 
ceived,  might  be  derived ;  and  I  trust  I  have 
been,  in  some  degree,  benefitted  by  studies  of  this 
kind.  Reflecting  on  the  pleasure,  arid  the  good 
effects,  which  this  species  of  reading  had  pro- 
duced on  my  own  mind,  I  naturally  supposed 
that  it  would  be  attended  with  similar  effects  on 
the  minds  of  others.  I  thought  too,  that  a  col- 
lection of  the  testimonies  of  great  and  good  per- 
sons, in  favour  of  piety  and  virtue,  would,  if 
they  were  properly  arranged,  be  more  interest- 
ing, and  more  efficacious,  than  a  perusal  of  them 
detached,  as  many  of  them  are,  in  the  pages  of 
history  and  biography.  Under  these  impres- 
sions, or  views  of  the  subject,  I  commenced  my 
little  work.  As  I  wished  to  form  it  on  liberal 
principles,  and  render  it  acceptable  to  readers  in 
general,  I  was  careful  to  introduce  characters  of 
various  religious  prefessions,and  of  different  ages 
and  countries.  The  concurrence  of  these,  in  the 


85 

recommendation  of  religion,  as  the  great  pro- 
moter of  our  happiness  here  and  hereafter,  would, 
I  conceived,  form  a  strong  persuasive  evidence, 
in  the  cause  of  piety  and  virtue.  I  flattered 
myself,  that  a  body  of  testimonies,  so  striking 
and  important,  would  exhibit  religion  in  a  most 
attractive  form :  and  that  it  would  be  calculated 
to  console  and  animate  the  well-disposed;  to 
rouse  the  careless ;  and  to  convince,  or,  at  least, 
to  discountenance,  the  unbeliever.  In  the  course 
of  the  work  I  annexed  to  many  of  the  charac- 
ters, such  observations  as  appeared  to  me  to  rise 
out  of  the  subject,  and  to  be  calculated  to  arrest 
the  reader's  attention,  and  promote  the  design 
which  I  had  in  view. 

The  first  edition  of  this  book,  which  was  en- 
titled, "  The  Power  of  Religion  on  the  Mind, 
&c.,"  appeared  in  the  year  1787.  It  consisted  of 
only  five  hundred  copies ;  all  of  which  were 
neatly  bound,  and  distributed  at  my  own  ex- 
pense. I  sent  them  to  the  principal  inhabitants 
of  York  and  its  vicinity ;  and  accompanied  each 
book  with  an  anonymous  note  requesting  a  fa- 
vourable acceptance  of  it,  and  apologizing  for  the 
liberty  I  had  taken.  It  was  not  without  some 
hesitation,  that  I  adopted  so  singular  a  mode  of 
distribution.  But,  on  mature  reflection,  I  be- 
lieved it  to  be  more  eligible  than  any  other,  for 
the  purpose  which  I  had  in  view.  And  as  I 


86 

was  but  little  known  in  the  city,  and  the  work 
was  anonymous,  I  perhaps  indulged  a  hope,  that 
the  author  might  not  be  recognised,  and  that  the 
business  would  pass  away,  without  much,  if  any, 
reflection  upon  me.  At  any  rate,  I  flattered 
myself,  that  if  the  author  should  be  discovered, 
the  goodness  of  his  intentions,  would  protect  him 
from  the  severity  of  censure,  even  by  those  who 
might  be  disposed  to  consider  his  procedure  as 
rather  eccentric. 

I  soon  found  that  my  publication  was  well 
received :  and  it  was  not  long  before  I  was  en- 
couraged to  print  a  new  edition  of  the  work,  in 
London,  which  met  with  a  good  sale.  Several 
other  impressions  appeared  in  different  places. 
When,  after  some  time,  a  sixth  edition  was  called 
for,  I  was  induced  to  enlarge  the  book,  and  to 
put  my  name  to  it.  And  as  I  afterwards  found 
that  it  continued  to  make  a  favourable  progress, 
I  conceived  that  if  the  copyright  were  assigned 
to  some  booksellers  of  extensive  business  and  in- 
fluence, it  would  be  circulated  more  diffusively, 
and  my  design  in  composing  it  be  still  more  ef- 
fectually answered.  Under  this  idea,  I  extended 
the  work  considerably ;  made  some  improve- 
ments in  the  language;  and  then  disposed  of  the 
copyright,  without  any  pecuniary  recompense. 
With  this  plan,  I  have  every  reason  to  be  per- 
fectly satisfied.  The  demand  for  the  book  has 


87 

far  exceeded  my  utmost  expectation :  and  the 
testimonies  of  approbation,  and  of  its  usefulness, 
•which  I  have  received,  have  been  truly  gratify- 
ing; and  have  given  me  cause  to  be  thankful  to 
the  Author  of  my  being,  that  I  have  been  the 
instrument,  even  in  a  small  degree,  of  dissemin- 
ating excitements  to  a  pious  and  virtuous  course 
of  life. 

I  am  sensible  it  is  difficult  to  write  with  prop- 
er delicacy,  concerning  publications  which  have 
been  made  by  one's  self;  especially  if  they  have 
been  attended  with  any  demonstrations  of  public 
favour  and  respect.  I  hope,  however,  that  in  the 
preceding  account  of  the  "Power  of  Religion  on 
the  Mind,"  I  have  not  deviated  from  the  dictates 
of  propriety ;  and  that,  in  the  narrative  and  ob- 
servations, which  I  may  hereafter  make,  respect- 
ing my  other  literary  productions,  I  shall  be  care- 
ful to  offer  nothing  which  may  not  be  warranted 
by  the  occasion,  and  the  nature  of  the  subject. 
These  productions  have  occupied  so  material  a 
part  of  my  life,  and  engaged  so  much  of  my 
study  and  attention,  that  I  shall  not,  perhaps,  be 
censured,  for  dwelling  upon  them  with  some  de- 
gree of  particularity. 

At  the  close  of  the  year  1794, 1  was  seized 
with  a  severe  illness,  which  continued  for  many 
weeks ;  and  reduced  me  to  so  feeble  a  state,  that 
my  recovery  was  much  doubted.  During  the 


continuance  of  this  affliction,  I  was  often  de- 
sirous, that,  if  it  were  the  will  of  Divine  Provi- 
dence, I  might  be  removed  from  this  state  of 
trouble,  and  landed  safely,  as  I  hoped  through 
infinite  mercy  I  should  be,  on  those  happy  shores, 
where  there  is  neither  sickness  nor  sorrow.  But 
I  must  acknowledge,  that  this  desire  of  being 
released  from  life,  and  its  attendant  trials,  was 
not  consistent  with  that  reverence  and  resigna- 
tion to  the  will  of  God,  which  are  due  to  him  from 
all  his  rational  creatures.  He  who  notices  the 
fall  of  every  sparrow,  sees  us  in  all  our  afflic- 
tions; and  knows  how  to  support  us  under  them, 
and  the  proper  time  to  deliver  us  from  their 
pressure;  and  he  will  assuredly  do  what  he 
knows  to  be  best  for  us.  From  the  greatest  dis- 
tresses, good  may  proceed :  our  spirits  may  re- 
ceive additional  refinement ;  and  our  example  of 
piofas,  humble  submission,  may  be  edifying  and 
consoling  to  our  friends  and  others. 

I  have,  in  the  course  of  forty  years,  been  vis- 
ited with  many  illnesses,  some  of  which  have 
been  very  painful,  and  brought  me  near  the  gates 
of  death.  But  I  have  always  had  the  happiness 
to  perceive,  that  they  were  a  necessary  and  sal- 
utary discipline,  replete  with  instruction  of  the 
most  important  nature,  and  better  for  me,  than 
if  I  had  enjoyed  a  uniform  tenour  of  health  and 
strength.  In  reflecting  upon  them,  I  have  been 


89 

so  fully  convinced  of  their  utility,  that  I  view 
them  as  concealed  blessings;  and  have  reason 
to  be  very  grateful  to  Divine  Providence,  for  this 
mixture  of  bitters  with  the  sweets  of  life. 

There  are  many  powerful  reasons,  for  our 
bearing  with  patience,  resignation,  and  even  with 
cheerfulness,  the  bodily  afflictions  with  which 
we  are  visited.  It  is  the  will  of  God  that  we 
should  be  subject  to  them.  Pain  and  death  are 
the  appointment  of  Divine  Providence,  as  the 
lot  of  man:  and  therefore,  to  endure  them,  with 
composure  and  reverence,  is  our  duty.  They  are 
designed  to  let  us  see  our  weakness ;  the  in- 
sufficiency of  the  things  of  time  to  make  us 
happy;  and  the  necessity  of  providing  for  a 
better  state. — They  tend  to  refine  our  minds,  to 
exalt  our  views,  and  prepare  us  for  future  hap- 
piness. "These  light  afflictions,  which  are  but 
for  a  moment,  work  for  us  a  far  more  exceeding 
and  eternal  weight  of  glory." — They  form  a  part 
of  the  punishment  for  sin  in  general,  and  often 
for  particular  sins.  "  Why  doth  a  living  man 
complain ;  a  man  for  the  punishment  of  his 
sin?"  How  light  is  this  correction,  when  it  is 
compared  with  what  we  deserve !  If  this,  joined 
to  the  other  sorrows  of  life,  be  all  the  chastise- 
ment we  are  to  receive,  for  our  ingratitude  and 
numerous  offences,  how  cheerfully  should  it  be 
endured;  especially  when  the  great  recompense, 
14 


90 

at  last,  is  contemplated  ! — Our  afflictions,  or  our 
works,  how  grievous  or  how  great  soever  they 
may  be,  can  not,  indeed,  be  a  satisfaction  for  sin, 
and  the  ground  of  our  acceptance  by  Heaven. 
These  transcendent  blessings  are  derived  to  us 
from  an  infinitely  higher  source,  the  sacrifice 
and  merits  of  the  Redeemer  of  the  world, 
through  the  medium  of  our  faith.  But  works 
that  are  truly  good,  are  not  to  be  undervalued. 
They  are  the  genuine  fruits  and  evidences  of 
true  faith ;  they  are  acceptable  to  the  God  of 
love  and  mercy;  and  they  are  required  by  him, 
as  our  indispensable  duties. 

These  views  of  Divine  Providence  and  Grace, 
if  they  were  thoroughly  impressed  on  our  minds, 
would  have  a  strong  tendency  to  reconcile  us, 
not  only  to  bodily  afflictions,  but  to  all  the  dis- 
tresses and  trials,  which  the  wisdom  and  good- 
ness of  our  heavenly  Father  may  be  pleased  to 
appoint  for  us. 

I  was  often  solicited  to  compose  and  publish  a 
Grammar  of  the  English  language,  for  the  use  of 
some  teachers,  who  were  not  perfectly  satisfied 
with  any  of  the  existing  grammars.  I  declined, 
for  a  considerable  time,  complying  with  this  re- 
quest, from  a  consciousness  of  my  inability  to  do 
the  subject  that  justice,  which  would  be  expected 
in  a  new  publication  of  this  nature.  But  being 
much  pressed  to  undertake  the  work,  I,  at  length, 


91 

turned  my  attention  seriously  to  it.  I  conceived 
that  a  grammar  containing  a  careful  selection  of 
the  most  useful  matter,  and  an  adaptation  of  it  to 
the  understanding,  and  the  gradual  progress  of 
learners,  with  a  special  regard  to  the  propriety 
and  purity  of  all  the  examples  and  illustrations ; 
would  be  some  improvement  on  the  English 
grammars  which  had  fallen  under  my  notice. 
With  this  impression,  I  ventured  to  produce  the 
first  edition  of  a  work  on  this  subject.  It  ap- 
peared in  the  spring  of  the  year  1795.  I  will 
not  assert,  that  I  have  accomplished  all  that  I 
proposed.  But  the  approbation  and  the  sale 
which  the  book  obtained,  have  given  me  some 
reason  to  believe,  that  I  have  not  altogether  fail- 
ed in  my  endeavours  to  elucidate  the  subject, 
and  to  facilitate  the  labours  of  both  teachers  and 
learners  of  English  grammar. 

In  a  short  time  after  the  appearance  of  the 
work,  a  second  edition  was  called  for.  This  un- 
expected demand,  induced  me  to  revise  and 
enlarge  the  book.  It  soon  obtained  an  extensive 
circulation.  And  the  repeated  editions  through 
which  it  passed  in  a  few  years,  encouraged  me, 
at  length,  to  improve  and  extend  it  still  further ; 
and,  in  particular,  to  support,  by  some  critical 
discussions,  the  principles  upon  which  many  of 
its  positions  are  founded. 


9:2 

Soon  after  the  Grammar  had  been  published,  I 
was  persuaded  to  compose  a  volume  of  Exercises, 
calculated  to  correspond  with,  and  illustrate,  by 
copious  examples,  all  the  rules  of  the  Grammar, 
both  principal  and  subordinate.  At  the  same 
time,  I  formed  a  Key  to  the  Exercises,  designed 
for  the  convenience  of  teachers,  and  for  the  use 
of  young  persons,  who  had  left  school,  and  who 
might  be  desirous,  at  their  leisure,  to  improve 
themselves  in  grammatical  studies  and  perspicu- 
ous composition.  In  forming  these  two  latter 
volumes,  my  design  was,  not  only  to  exercise  the 
student's  ingenuity,  in  correcting  the  sentences  ; 
and  to  excite  him  to  the  study  of  grammar,  by 
the  pleasure  of  feeling  his  own  powers  and  pro- 
gress: but  to  introduce,  for  his  imitation,  a  great 
number  of  sentences,  selected  from  the  best 
writers,  and  distinguished  by  their  perspicuity 
and  elegance;  and  to  imbue  his  mind  with 
sentiments  of  the  highest  importance,  by  inter- 
weaving principles  of  piety  and  virtue  with 
the  study  of  language.  The  Exercises  and  Key 
were  published  in  1797 ;  and  met  with  a  greater 
sale  than  I  could  have  supposed.  The  approba- 
tion they  received  made  ample  amends  to  me,  for 
the  time  and  labour  I  had  bestowed  upon  them. 
And  I  was  encouraged,  in  the  same  year,  to 
make  an  Abridgment  of  the  Grammar,  for  the 
use  of  minor  schools,  and  for  those  who  were 


93 

beginning  to  study  the  language.  The  four 
volumes  being  intimately  connected,  mutually 
supported  and  recommended  each  other.  And 
this  circumstance,  I  believe,  induced  many 
teachers  to  adopt  them  in  their  seminaries  of 
education. 

As  these  books,  except  the  Abridgment,  were 
reprinted  at  York,  I  consented  to  correct  the 
press ;  by  which,  I  presume,  they  appeared  with 
a  greater  degree  of  accuracy,  (a  point  of  consider- 
able importance  to  books  designed  for  schools,) 
than  if  they  had  not  received  the  author's  in- 
spection. This  circumstance  contributed  to 
occupy  some  of  my  leisure  hours ;  and,  for  a 
time,  afforded  a  little  amusement.  Inconvenient 
as  the  employment  afterwards  proved,  when  it 
increased  much  beyond  my  expectation,  I  still 
continued  it,  with  a  hope  that  it  would  be  pro- 
ductive of  good  effects.  My  examination  of  the 
new  editions,  gave  occasion  to  many  corrections 
and  considerable  enlargements  ;  which  I  flatter 
myself,  have  improved  the  books,  and  rendered 
them  less  unworthy  of  the  extensive  patronage 
which  they  have  received. 

In  the  course  of  my  literary  labours,  I  found 
that  the  mental  exercise  which  accompanied 
them,  was  not  a  little  beneficial  to  my  health. 
The  motives  which  excited  me  to  write,  and  the 
objects  which  I  hoped  to  accomplish,  were  of  a 


94 

nature  calculated  to  cheer  the  mind,  and  to  give 
the  animal  spirits  a  salutary  impulse.  I  am  per* 
suaded,  that  if  I  had  suffered  my  time  to  pass 
away,  with  little  or  no  employment,  my  health 
would  have  been  still  more  impaired,  my  spirits 
depressed,  and  perhaps  my  life  considerably 
shortened.  I  have  therefore  reason  to  deem  it  a 
happiness,  and  a  source  of  gratitude  to  Divine 
Providence,  that  I  was  enabled,  under  my 
bodily  weakness  and  confinement,  to  turn  my 
attention  to  the  subjects  which  have,  for  so  many 
years,  afforded  me  abundant  occupation.  I  think 
it  is  incumbent  upon  us,  whatever  may  be  our 
privations,  to  cast  our  eyes  around,  and  endeav- 
our to  discover,  whether  there  are  not  some 
means  yet  left  us,  of  doing  good  to  ourselves  and 
to  others ;  that  our  lights  may,  in  some  degree, 
shine  in  every  situation,  and,  if  possible,  be  ex- 
tinguished only  with  our  lives.  The  quantum 
of  good  which,  under  such  circumstances,  we 
do,  ought  not  to  disturb  or  affect  us.  If  we 
perform  what  we  are  able  to  perform,  how  little 
soever  it  may  be,  it  is  enough ;  it  will  be  accept- 
able in  the  sight  of  Him,  who  knows  how  to 
estimate  exactly  all  our  actions,  by  comparing 
them  with  our  disposition  and  ability. 

These  considerations,  joined  to  the  unexpected 
success  which  I  had  met  with  in  my  publications^ 
encouraged  me  to  persevere  in  my  literary  pur- 


95 

suits.  I  engaged  in  a  work,  which  appeared  to 
me  likely  to  prove  of  peculiar  advantage  to  the 
rising  generation.  This  was  a  compilation  con- 
taining some  of  the  most  esteemed  pieces  in  the 
language,  both  in  prose  and  poetry :  which  are 
at  once  calculated  to  promote  correct  reading ; 
to  give  a  taste  for  justness  of  thought,  and  ele- 
gance of  composition;  and  to  inculcate  pious  and 
virtuous  sentiments.  This  work  I  entitled, 
"The  English  Reader:"  and  I  was  pleased  to 
find  that  my  hopes  respecting  it,  were  not  disap- 
pointed. The  book  was  introduced,  as  I  wished 
it  to  be,  into  many  schools  and  private  families; 
and  it  has  been  often  reprinted. 

The  approbation  given  to  the  English  Reader, 
induced  me  to  publish  an  "  Introduction"  and  a 
"  Sequel"  to  that  book.  These  three  volumes 
pursue  the  same  subjects;  they  all  aim  at  a 
chaste  and  guarded  education  of  young  persons. 
And  I  have  great  satisfaction  in  reflecting,  that 
whilst  they  contain  many  selections  which  pre- 
sent the  moral  virtues,  religion,  and  the  Christian 
religion  in  particular,  in  very  amiable  points  of 
view,  not  a  sentiment  has  been  admitted  into 
any  of  them,  which  can  pain  the  most  virtuous 
mind,  or  give  the  least  offence  to  the  eye  or  ear 
of  modesty. 

The  recommendations  which  these  books  re- 
ceived, for  the  chastity  and  correctness  of  seuti- 


96 

merit,  which  distinguish  the  pieces  they  contain, 
persuaded  me  to  believe,  that  a  collection,  in 
French,  on  similar  principles,  and  made  from 
some  of  the  finest  writers  ;  would  be  received  by 
the  public,  with  some  degree  of  approbation. 
Animated  by  this  expectation,  I  produced  in 
the  year  1802,  a  compilation  entitled,  "Lecteur 
Fran§ois;"  and  in  1807,  another,  with  the  title 
of  "  Introduction  au  Lecteur  Fran9ois."  As  the 
contents  of  both  these  volumes  are  extracted 
from  authors  of  reputation,  and  are  particularly 
guarded  in  point  of  sentiment  and  morality,  I 
hoped  that  they  would  be  acceptable  to  teachers 
of  schools,  and  private  instructers,  as  well  as  to 
the  young  persons  who  were  under  their  care, 
and  others  who  wished  to  improve  themselves  in 
the  language.  I  have  had  no  reason  to  regret  the 
time  and  pains,  which  I  employed,  in  preparing 
and  producing  these  volumes.  In  foreign  lan- 
guages, not  less  than  in  English,  it  is  of  high 
importance,  that  youth  should  be  presented  with 
books  inculcating  sound  morality,  and  purified 
from  every  thing,  which  might  stain  the  delicacy 
of  their  minds.  And  I  trust  that,  in  these  res- 
pects, as  well  as  with  regard  to  purity  of  style 
and  justness  of  composition,  these  volumes  will 
bear  the  strictest  examination. 

In  the  year  1804, 1  published  a  Spelling  Book. 
When  it  first  occurred  to  me  to  compose  this 


97 


little  book,  and  for  some  time  afterwards,  the 
work  appeared  to  be  of  so  very  humble  a  nature, 
that  I  was  not  in  much  haste  to  set  about  it.  On 
reflecting,  however,  that  a  Spelling  book  is  com- 
monly the  threshold  of  learning;  and  that  by  in- 
troducing into  it  a  number  of  easy  reading  les- 
sons, calculated  to  attract  attention,  the  infant 
mind  might  be  imbued  with  the  love  of  goodness, 
and  led  to  approve  and  practise  many  duties 
connected  with  early  life ;  my  hesitation  was  re- 
moved, and,  after  a  considerable  time,  the  work 
was  completed.  But  I  found  it  much  more  diffi- 
cult than  I  expected.  The  adaptation  of  lessons 
to  the  young  capacity,  and  the  exactness  required 
in  the  gradations  of  instruction,  appeared  to  de- 
mand all  the  judgment  and  attention  of  which  I 
was  master;  and  probably  called  for  much  more 
than  I  possessed.  After  many  essays,  I  came  at 
length  to  the  end  of  my  labour.  I  made  it  a  point, 
in  composing  the  Spelling  book,  to  introduce  no 
matter  that  is  foreign  to  the  objects  which  such 
a  work  ought  to  have  in  view;  and  I  was  studi- 
ous to  bring  the  latter  reading  lessons  to  such  a 
state  of  advancement,  as  would  form  an  easy  and 
natural  connexion  between  this  book  and  the 
"  Introduction  to  the  English  Reader." 
From  the  friend  whom  I  am  now  addressing-, 

c5' 

and  at  whose  request  these  Memoirs  are  written, 
I  certainly  received   much  valuable,  and  very 

15 


98 


material,  assistance,  in  compiling  the  Spelling 
Book,  The  Introduction  to  the  English  Reader, 
and  the  two  volumes  hi  French ;  and  I  can  not, 
with  propriety,  omit,  on  the  present  occasion, 
the  acknowledgment  of  this  co-operation.  It  is 
also  proper  to  add,  in  this  place,  that  I  received 
from  the  same  hand,  and  from  a  number  of  my 
literary  correspondents,  many  very  useful  sug- 
gestions and  criticisms,  with  respect  to  my 
English  Grammar,  and  some  of  my  other  pub- 
lications. Those  hints  and  criticisms  have  un- 
doubtedly contributed,  in  no  small  degree,  to 
improve  the  books,  and  to  render  them  less 
unworthy  of  the  attention  which  they  have  re- 
ceived from  the  public. 

As  I  was  desirous  that  my  publications  should 
have  a  circulation  as  extensive  as  I  could  procure 
for  them,  I  sold  the  copyrights  to  one  of  the  first 
houses  in  London.  These  booksellers  had  it  in 
their  power  to  spread  them  very  diffusively; 
and  they  have  done  it  perfectly  to  my  satisfac- 
tion. They  gave  a  liberal  price  for  the  books  : 
and  I  must  say,  that  in  all  our  transactions  to- 
gether, which  have  not  been  very  limited,  they 
have  demonstrated  great  honour  and  upright- 
ness, and  entirely  justified  my  confidence  and  ex- 
pectations. I  have  great  pleasure  in  knowing  that 
the  purchase  of  the  copyrights  has  proved  highly 
advantageous  to  them:  and  though  it  has  turned 


99 

out  much  more  lucrative,  than  was  at  first  con- 
templated, they  are  fully  entitled  to  the  benefit. 
Such  contracts  always  have  in  them  some  degree 
of  hazard;  and  it  was  possible  that  these  might 
have  been  attended  with  little  or  no  profit. 

But  my  views  in  writing  and  publishing  were 
not  of  a  pecuniary  nature.  My  great  objects 
were,  as  I  before  observed,  to  be  instrumental  in 
doing  a  little  good  to  others,  to  youth  in  particu- 
lar; and  to  give  my  mind  a  rational  and  salutary 
employment.  It  was,  I  believe,  my  early  deter- 
mination, that  if  any  profits  should  arise  from 
my  literary  labours,  I  would  apply  them,  not  to 
my  own  private  use,  but  to  charitable  purposes, 
and  for  the  benefit  of  others.  My  income  was 
sufficient  to  support  the  expenses  of  my  family, 
and  to  allow  of  a  little  to  spare ;  and  I  had  not 
any  children  to  provide  for.  There  was  conse- 
quently no  inducement  to  warrant  me,  in  devia- 
ting from  the  determination  I  had  made :  and 
as  I  have  hitherto  adhered,  I  trust  I  shall  con- 
tinue faithfully  to  adhere,  to  my  original  views 
and  intentions.  By  these  observations,  I  do  not 
design  any  censure  on  those  writers,  who  apply 
the  profits  of  their  works,  to  increase  the  amount 
of  their  property.  Many  persons,  from  their 
situation,  their  connexions,  and  other  considera- 
tions, find  this  application  proper  or  necessary. 
Every  case  must  be  decided  by  its  own  peculiar 


100 

circumstances ;  and  whilst  we  claim  indulgence 
to  our  own  sentiments  and  conduct,  we  should 
be  liberally  disposed  to  make  every  allowance 
for  those  who  think  and  act  differently. 

After  the  Grammar  and  the  books  connected 
with  it,  had  passed  through  many  editions,  the 
proprietors  conceived  that  an  edition  of  the 
whole,  in  two  volumes  octavo,  on  fine  paper, 
and  in  a  large  letter,  would  be  well  received  by 
the  public  ;  and  I  embraced  the  opportunity,  to 
improve  the  work,  by  many  additions  which  I 
conceived  to  be  appropriate.  These  occupied 
about  one  hundred  pages  of  the  first  volume. 
In  its  present  form,  the  publication  is  designed 
for  the  use  of  persons  who  may  think  it  merits  a 
place  in  their  libraries.  To  this  privilege  it  may, 
perhaps,  be  allowed  to  aspire,  as  a  work  con- 
taining a  pretty  extensive  exhibition  of  the 
principles  of  English  grammar,  and  a  copious 
illustration  of  those  principles ;  with  the  addition 
of  some  positions  and  discussions,  which  I  per- 
suade myself  are  not  destitute  of  originality.  It 
will,  therefore,  I  venture  to  hope,  serve  as  a 
book  of  reference,  to  refresh  the  memory,  and, 
in  some  degree,  to  employ  the  curiosity  of  per- 
sons who  are  skilled  in  grammar,  as  well  as  to 
extend  the  knowledge  of  those  who  wish  to  im- 
prove themselves  in  the  art.  This  octavo  edition 
of  the  Grammar  appeared  in  1808.  It  was  fa- 


101 

vourably  received ;  and  a  new  edition  of  it  was 
ordered  in  the  course  of  a  few  months. 

At  this  period,  I  had  the  satisfaction  to  per- 
ceive, that  all  my  literary  productions  were 
approved ;  and  that  most  of  them  were  advan- 
cing in  the  public  estimation.  But  1  was  fully 
persuaded  that  an  author  ought  to  terminate  his 
labours,  before  the  tide  of  favour  begins  to  turn ; 
and  before  he  incurs  the  charge  of  being  so  in- 
fected with  the  morbid  humour  for  writing,  as 
not  to  have  the  discretion  to  know  when  to  stop. 
I  was  so  sensible  of  what  was  due  to  the  public, 
for  their  favourable  reception  of  my  productions, 
that  I  was  extremely  unwilling  to  forfeit  their 
approbation,  by  presuming  too  much  on  what  1 
had  experienced.  It  appears  to  be  better  to 
retire  from  the  field  of  public  labour,  with  some 
advantages,  than  to  incur  the  risk  of  losing  all, 
or  of  impairing  what  had  been  acquired,  by 
feeble  and  unsuccessful  efforts  to  obtain  more. 
I  may  add  to  these  observations,  that  I  had,  per- 
haps, pursued  this  mode  of  employment  rather 
too  closely ;  and  that  I  wished  for  more  leisure 
to  prosecute  other  studies.  Influenced  by  these 
various  motives,  I  have  closed  my  literary  la- 
bours, for  the  present  at  least ;  and  I  shall  not 
resume  them,  unless  some  special  considerations 
should  alter  my  views  of  the  subject.  There 
will,  I  trust,  still  remain  for  me,  other  sources  of 


102 

employment,  and  some  degree  of  usefulness,  bet- 
ter adapted  to  circumstances,  and  to  my  grow- 
ing infirmities  of  body. 

It  may  not  be  improper  for  me  on  this  occa- 
sion, to  express  the  comfortable  hope  which  I 
entertain,  that,  notwithstanding  my  infirmities 
and  privations,  I  have  been  an  instrument  of 
some  good  to  others,  by  my  studies  and  publica- 
tions. This  is  a  source  of  grateful  acknowledg- 
ment to  the  Giver  of  all  good,  and  Disposer  of 
all  events.  But  I  must  not  be  misunderstood. 
I  arrogate  nothing  to  myself;  I  have  nothing  to 
boast  of.  If  I  have  done  any  thing  that  is  ac- 
ceptable to  God,  it  has  been  but  little ;  and  that 
little  has  been  produced  by  his  gracious  assist- 
ance, and  accepted  for  the  sake  of  Jesus  Christ. 
In  reflecting  on  my  errors  and  transgressions 
through  life,  my  numberless  omissions  of  what 
I  ought  to  have  done,  and  commissions  of  what 
I  ought  not  to  have  done,  I  perceive  abundant 
cause  for  deep  humiliation ;  and  for  esteeming 
very  lightly,  and  exceedingly  defective,  my  en- 
deavours to  promote  the  interests  of  virtue,  and 
to  do  the  will  of  my  heavenly  Father. 

I  have  occasionally,  in  these  Memoirs,  made 
some  observations  on  the  importance  of  learning 
and  knowledge  to  the  human  mind :  but  it  may 
not  be  improper  to  express  my  sentiments  more 
explicitly,  on  this  interesting  subject. — I  con- 


103 

sider  these  attainments,  as  of  so  great  conse- 
quence to  us,  in  civil,  moral,  and  religious  points 
of  view,  that  it  would  be  difficult  to  calculate 
the  benefits  which  they  produce.     And  yet,  like 
most,  if  not  all  other,  advantages,  they  may  be 
overvalued,  misapplied,  or  pursued   to  excess. 
This  is  unhappily  the  case,  when  they  nourish 
pride  and  vanity ;  occupy  too  much  of  our  time; 
or  interfere  with  the  great  duties  of  loving  and 
serving  our  Creator,  and  promoting  the  welfare, 
spiritual  or  temporal,  of  our  fellow-creatures. 
All  our  duties  of  every  kind,  all  the  rational  and 
allowable  concerns  of  life,  are  perfectly  consist- 
ent, and  harmonize  together,  when  they  are  pur- 
sued according  to  their  respective  importance, 
and  in  due  subordination  to  one  an  other.     If, 
therefore,   in   the  acquisition   of  learning  and 
knowledge,  and  in  the  enjoyments  which  they  af- 
ford us,  we  perceive  that  the  supreme  love  of 
God  prevails  in  our  hearts;  that  the  interests  and 
happiness  of  others  are  warmly  and  properly  felt; 
and  that  our  own  well-being  hereafter,  is  the 
chief  aim  and  concern  of  our  lives;  we  may  se- 
curely trust,  that  our  studies  and  literary  engage- 
ments, are  not  only  innocent  and  allowable,  but 
conducive  to  the  great  ends  of  our  existence. 
These,  indeed,  appear  to  be  the  true  tests,  by 
which  we  may  ascertain  the  rectitude  of  all  our 
views  and  pursuits. 


104 

In  the  prosecution  of  classical  learning,  not 
only  the  limitations  and  tendencies  just  men- 
tioned, are  to  be  regarded,  but  peculiar  caution 
and  restraint  are  requisite,  especially  in  the  edu- 
cation of  young  persons.  It  will  doubtless  be 
admitted,  that  several  of  the  ancient  celebrated 
authors  contain  passages  which,  in  point  of  reli- 
gion, morality,  and  even  decency,  are  very  ex- 
ceptionable ;  that  they  have  a  strong  tendency 
to  corrupt  the  tender  minds  of  youth ;  and  to 
leave  impressions  which,  in  mature  years,  may 
foster  their  depravities,  or,  at  least,  increase  the 
conflicts  of  virtue. 

There  are,  indeed,  ^ome  editions  of  the  classics, 
which  have  received  a  considerable  degree  of 
purgation;  for  which  the  world  is  not  a  little 
indebted  to  the  worthy  labourers  in  this  depart- 
ment of  literature.*  But  there  is,  perhaps,  much 
yet  remaining,  in  several  of  them,  which  calls 
for  the  purifying  operations  of  some  judicious, 
learned,  and  conscientious  persons.  And  till  this 
complete  purification  takes  place,  I  conceive  it 
is  of  high  importance,  that  a  scrupulously  se- 
lected number  of  these  ancient  works  should  be 
adopted,  not  in  a  few  only,  but  in  all  our  clas- 
sical seminaries. 


*  A  purified  edition  of  the  British  Poets,  was  also  an  object 
which  Mr.  Murray  had  much  at  heart.    EDITOR. 


105 

This  selection  would  doubtless  exclude  some 
books,  which  are  distinguished  by  the  simplicity 
and  elegance  of  their  style,  and  the  correctness 
of  their  composition.  But  this  sacrifice  would 
be  of  little  moment,  compared  with  the  great 
benefits  which  it  would  produce.  Fine  language 
and  beautiful  composition  prove  the  more  dan- 
gerous, when  they  are  the  vehicles  of  corrupt 
and  pernicious  sentiments.  They  certainly  can 
never  compensate  for  the  wounds  to  virtue, 
which  they  serve  so  deeply,  and  so  often  per- 
manently, to  inflict.  The  exclusion  of  the  ob- 
jectionable books  above  alluded  to,  would  be  of 
less  consequence,  and  the  less  to  be  regretted, 
because  there  would  still  remain  a  considerable 
number  and  variety  of  ancient  authors,  in  prose 
and  verse,  abundantly  sufficient  for  the  classical 
education  of  young  persons. 

After  all  the  care  that  can  be  taken,  in  select- 
ing the  best  and  most  purified  of  those  celebrated 
writers,  there  will  still  be  found  amongst  them, 
great  defects  in  the  religion  and  morality  which 
they  inculcate.  Much  imperfection  may  remain 
even  where  positive  vice  is  excluded.  It  would, 
therefore,  be  of  singular  advantage  to  the  youth- 
ful mind,  if  teachers  would,  on  all  proper  occa- 
sions, remark  to  their  pupils  these  imperfections; 
and  contrast  them  with  the  pure  and  perfect 
principles  of  the  Christian  religion.  The  ne- 

16 


106 

cessity  and  importance  of  Christianity  to  man- 
kind, and  many  of  its  distinguishing  doctrines 
and  precepts,  would,  by  this  means,  be  evinced 
and  unfolded  to  young  persons.  And  it  may  be 
reasonably  presumed  that,  in  numerous  instan- 
ces, this  procedure  would  not  only  make  the  hap- 
piest impressions  on  their  susceptible  minds,  but 
prepare  them  for  an  attachment  to  our  holy  reli- 
gion, which  no  sophistry  or  scorn  of  the  infidel, 
no  intercourse  with  the  world,  would  ever  be 
able  to  destroy. — I  have  no  doubt  that  the  prac- 
tice I  am  recommending,  is  approved  and  ob- 
served, by  many  instructers  of  youth.  But  it  is 
highly  desirable,  that  a  practice  so  eminently 
useful,  should  be  universally  adopted  by  classical 
teachers,  both  public  and  private,  as  an  indis- 
pensable part  of  education. 

At  the  close  of  the  year  1808,  I  met  with  a 
most  affecting  event,  in  the  death  of  my  youngest 
sister,  the  wife  of  Gilbert  Golden  Willett.  She 
had  been,  for  nearly  a  year,  much  indisposed ; 
and  the  disorder  made  a  gradual  progress,  till  it 
put  a  period  to  her  mortal  existence,  in  the  forty- 
fifth  year  of  her  age.  From  the  letters  of  my 
relations,  which  mention  her  decease,  and  the 
circumstances  attending  it,  I  have  derived  great 
consolation.  She  was  so  patient,  so  fully  re- 
signed to  the  will  of  God,  and  so  well  prepared 
to  leave  the  world,  and  enter  into  a  state  of 


107 

blessedness ;  that  we  have  no  cause  to  mourn 
on  her  account.  She  has,  doubtless,  commenced 
that  life,  which  is  free  from  temptation  and  sor- 
row ;  and  in  which  she  will  be  unspeakably  hap- 
py  for  ever.  I  rejoice  that  1  have  had  such  a  sis- 
ter; and  I  trust  that  the  recollection  of  her  pious 
and  bright  example,  will  prove,  through  life,  a 
source  of  thankfulness,  and  an  additional  incen- 
tive to  virtue.  As  I  feel  so  deeply  interested  in 
this  event,  I  think  that  an  account  of  some  of  her 
expressions,  and  her  deportment,  at  and  near  the 
closing  scene,  will  not  be  deemed  unsuitable  to  v 
a  narrative  which  relates  the  chief  occurrences 
of  my  life. — For  several  weeks  before  her  death, 
she  was  at  times  affected  with  exquisite  bodily 
pain,  and  was  often  nearly  suffocated  by  the 
disorder  of  her  lungs.  But  her  own  distresses, 
which  were  borne  with  great  patience,  did  not 
prevent  her  from  attending  to  the  feelings  and 
situation  of  her  husband  and  children,  her  rela- 
tions and  friends.  She  was  solicitous  to  dimin- 
ish their  care,  and  to  relieve  their  anxiety  about 
her,  as  much  as  possible. 

Though  her  hope  and  trust  in  the  mercy  of 
God,  through  Jesus  Christ,  were  strong  and  un- 
shaken, yet  she  was  very  humble,  and  thought 
but  little  of  her  own  attainments.  To  a  person 
wrho  expressed  a  desire  to  take  pattern  after  her, 
she  meekly  replied :  "  I  desire  to  take  pattern 


108 

after  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ."  In  one  of  her  in- 
tervals of  relief  from  great  pain,  a  person  in  the 
room  calling  her  blessed,  she  answered ;  "  Not 
yet  blessed."  And  to  her  husband  who  said,  he 
was  sure  she  was  going  to  be  happy,  she  replied : 
"  Not  sure,  my  love ;  we  can  not  be  sure :  but  I 
trust  in  the  mercy  of  the  Almighty."  At  an  other 
time,  her  husband  speaking  of  her  goodness,  as 
the  ground  of  a  lively  hope,  she  put  her  hand  on 
his  lips,  as  if  to  silence  him  on  the  subject  of 
herself.  On  observing  the  grief  of  her  sister,  at 
a  particular  time,  she  said  to  her;  "  I  hope  there 
is  no  cause  for  grief:"  and,  on  an  other  occasion, 
when  her  sister  was  much  distressed  with  be- 
holding her  extreme  agony  of  body,  she  lifted 
up  her  finger,  with  a  view  to  recommend  to  her 
submission  to  the  will  of  God. 

Perceiving  her  husband  to  be  in  great  afflic- 
tion she  said  to  him :  "  Remember  who  it  is 
that  inflicts  the  blow.  It  is  intended  for  your 
good ;  and,  I  trust,  for  mine."  At  one  time,  just 
after  she  had  recovered  from  great  difficulty  in 
breathing,  she  said  to  her  friends  who  were  near 
her :  "  Fix  your  heart  upon  God,  arid  he  will 
support  you  in  an  hour  like  this.  Be  good,  and 
you  will  be  happy."  To  one  of  her  domestics, 
she  addressed  herself  thus  :  "  Farewell,  my  dear 
Remember  my  advice.  If  I  am  happy, 


109 

you  may  be  so  too.     You  have,  I  believe,  a  good 
heart.     May  God  Almighty  bless  you!" 

With  great  composure,  she  gave  her  husband 
particular  directions  respecting  her  funeral:  and, 
at  the  same  time,  desired  him  to  communicate 
her  love  to  her  absent  relations,  mentioning  most 
of  them  by  their  names.  She  expressed  a  tender 
concern,  that  these  observations  might  not 
afflict  him ;  and  said,  that  she  should  not  be 
taken  away  the  sooner,  for  having  made  them. 
It  appeared,  through  the  whole  of  her  deport- 
ment, that  though  her  heart  and  views  were 
directed  towards  heaven,  she  did  not  forget 
the  duties  that  remained  to  be  performed  upon 
earth.  She  thanked  her  husband,  in  the  most 
affectionate  manner,  for  his  attentions  to  her; 
and  expressed  regret  that  he  had  suffered  so 
much  confinement.  With  a  countenance  unus- 
ually expressive,  she  said  to  him  :  "  My  beloved 
husband,  I  believe  I  have  been  favoured  with 
the  sweet  spirit  of  my  blessed  Saviour.  O,  the 
comfort  and  consolation  afforded  to  my  soul! 
He  will  support  me  on  this  trying  occasion. 
Look  to  him,  my  dear :  he  will  sustain  you ;  and 
enable  you  to  be  an  example  to  our  dear  chil- 
dren. O,  that  you  and  they,  and  all  my  rela- 
tions and  friends,  may  feel  that  pleasing  hope, 
which  will  support  you  during  life  !  You  must 
patiently  acquiesce  in  the  Divine  will.  I  have, 


110 

for  many  years^een  a  poor,  feeble  woman  :  but 
now  my  strength  and  hope  are  great  in  Him 
who  gave,  and  in  Him  who  taketh  away ;  blessed 
be  his  holy  name  !" 

The  day  preceding  her  death,  she  put  up  a 
prayer  to  her  heavenly  Father,  beseeching  him, 
in  a  sweet  and  melodious  voice,  that  he  would 
be  pleased  to  bless  her  beloved  husband,  her 
dear  sisters,  and  her  lovely  and  loving  children ; 
saying  that  he  could  take  much  better  care  of 
them  than  she  was  able  to  do. 

The  same  day,  whilst  she  was  supported  to  sit 
up  in  bed,  she  expressed  a  desire  to  see  her  chil- 
dren, and  to  speak  to  them.  They  came  to  her; 
and  kneeled  down  at  her  bed  side,  that  they 
might  the  more  reverently  attend  to  the  expres- 
sions of  their  dying  mother.  This  was  a  most 
affecting  scene,  which  totally  overcame  her  hus- 
band, who  was  taken  out  of  the  room.  Her  weak- 
ness of  body  was  so  great,  that  she  was  just  able 
to  give  them  her  last  blessing,  and  to  take  leave 
of  them,  individually,  in  these  expressive  words: 
"  Farewell,  my  beloved !" — To  her  other  rela- 
tions and  friends  who  were  present,  she  gave  her 
hand  with  the  utmost  composure,  as  a  token  of 
her  love,  and  final  separation  from  them  in  this 
world. 

The  awful  period  was  now  approaching,  in 
which  her  spirit  was  to  sustain  its  last  conflict. 


Ill 

When  she  was  near  her  end,  and  in  great  distress 
of  body,  she  still  felt  for  the  sorrows  of  her  hus- 
band ;  and  fearing  that  the  scene  would  tod 
much  affect  him,  she  waved  her  hand,  as  a  signal 
for  him  to  leave  the  room.  In  about  half  an 
hour  after  this,  her  pains  abated  ;  and  she  calm- 
ly breathed  her  last,  without  sigh  or  groan,  ut- 
tering these  consoling  words,  expressive  of  her 
piety  and  faith  :  "  Sweet  Jesus,  take  me  to  thy- 
self!" 

Thus  terminated  the  life  of  this  good  and 
pious  sister ;  who  exchanged,  1  doubt  not,  the 
sorrows  of  time  for  the  joys  of  eternity.  Though 
her  trials  and  afflictions  were  great,  yet  com- 
pared with  the  happiness  she  now  enjoys,  and 
which  she  will  for  endless  ages  enjoy,  they  are 
lighter  than  can  be  conceived ;  and  deserve  no 
consideration  but  that  which  is  derived  from 
their  salutary  effects.  I  have  reason  to  believe, 
that  she  found  the  troubles  and  disappointments 
of  this  life,  a  great  incitement  to  piety  and  vir- 
tue ;  a  powerful  motive  to  look  for  that  felici- 
ty in  a  better  world,  which  she  perceived  was 
not  to  be  met  with  in  this.  One  source  of  per- 
petual gratitude  and  praises  to  her  gracious 
Benefactor,  will  doubtless  be,  the  afflictions 
which  his  good  Providence  saw  meet  to  dispense, 
in  order  to  wean  her  from  too  great  an  attach- 
ment to  the  things  of  this  life.  When  we  view 


112 

afflictions  in  this  light,  they  almost  lose  their  na- 
ture ;  and  dispose  us  to  receive  them  as  friendly 
visiters,  as  blessings  in  disguise. 

I  have,  at  length,  after  many  delays  and  in- 
terruptions, brought  the  Memoirs  of  my  life  to 
the  present  period,  the  spring  of  the  year  1809 ; 
and  I  hope  I  shall  be  able  to  finish  the  work,  in 
my  next  letter. 

I  am,  with  much  respect  arid  regard,  &c. 


iia 


LETTER    VI. 


My  dear  Friend, 

I  SHALL  close  the  account  which 
1  had  undertaken  to  give  of  the  chief  events  of 
my  life,  with  a  few  reflections  and  observations, 
which  naturally  arise  on  the  review  of  scenes  and 
transactions  that  so  intimately  concern  me* 

I  have  often  deeply  regretted,  and,  if  memory 
lasts,  I  shall  often  regret  through  life,  that  a  great 
part  of  my  time  has  been  spent  in  too  earnest  a 
pursuit  of  the  enjoyments  of  this  transient  scene, 
and  in  little  attention  to  the  interests  of  a  life 
that  is  infinitely  better.  I  always  approved  of 
that  wisdom,  which  provides  for  a  distant  and 
permanent  happiness,  especially  an  eternal  hap- 
piness, though  to  obtain  it  many  sacrifices  of 
temporary  pleasures  are  to  be  made ;  and  I  was 
fully  persuaded,  that  a  course  of  piety  and  virtue, 
notwithstanding  the  trials  which  attend  it,  is 

17 


114 

productive  of  more  solid  satisfaction,  than  all  the 
enjoyments  with  which  the  most  prosperous 
worldly  pursuits  are  accompanied.  I  knew  that 
the  consciousness  of  doing  well,  the  approbation 
of  Heaven,  and  the  well  grounded  hope  of  future 
felicity,  are  sufficient  to  raise  the  mind  above  all 
the  troubles  of  time,  and  to  give  it  a  dignity  and 
peace,  which  nothing  earthly  can  confer.  But 
the  busy  scenes,  and  the  allurements  of  the 
world,  were  before  me,  and  attracting  my  at- 
tention. The  animation  produced  by  flattering 
prospects ;  an  undue  solicitude  for  the  appro- 
bation of  others;  the  example  of  numbers  around 
me,  in  the  earnest  pursuit  of  honours,  riches,  or 
pleasures;  and  the  expectation  that  a  more  con- 
venient season  would  arrive,  for  a  truly  self- 
denying  and  serious  course  of  life ;  all  concurred 
to  insnare  my  heart,  and  to  induce  me  to  post- 
pone, or  to  pursue  irresolutely,  those  objects 
which  I  hoped  would,  some  time  or  other,  form 
my  greatest  concern.  I  did  not  properly  reflect, 
as  I  ought  to  have  done,  that,  besides  losing, 
through  these  unhappy  delays,  a  great  deal  of 
true  and  solid  enjoyment,  I  rendered  the  paths 
of  religion  more  difficult,  by  strengthening  the 
habits  of  folly  and  procrastination ;  and  laid  up 
for  myself  a  store  of  afflictive  recollections  dur- 
ing life. 


115 

Time  thus  misemployed,  could  not,  however, 
be  recalled  ;  and  it  was  deeply  incumbent  upon 
me,  to  occupy  that  which  remained,  in  a  very 
different  manner ;  in  gratitude,  love,  and  obe- 
dience, to  my  gracious  Preserver  and  Benefac- 
tor.— How  happy  Avould  it  be  for  us,  if  we  were 
accustomed,  in  early  life  especially,  to  reflect  on 
the  nature  of  sinful  indulgences,  and  their  bitter 
fruits!  We  should  then  be  disposed,  often  and 
earnestly,  to  pray  to  God  for  preservation;  and  we 
should  escape  many  gloomy  and  sorrowful  retro- 
spects. There  are  periods  of  our  lives,  when  the 
sins  of  youth,  as  well  as  those  of  more  advanced 
years,  appear  with  all  their  peculiar  aggravations, 
and  sometimes  occasion  great  dejection  and  per- 
plexity of  mind.  Though  they  may  seem  to 
sleep  for  a  while,  they  will  assuredly,  at  some 
time  or  other,  rise  up,  and  trouble  our  repose. 
These  are  urgent  motives  to  resist  the  tempta- 
tions to  evil,  and  to  prevent  the  distressing  re- 
flections by  which  it  is  followed. 

But  though  the  violations  of  duty,  and  the 
sense  of  our  demerits,  are  productive  of  such  un- 
easy retrospects;  and  often  induce  us,  emphati- 
cally to  say,  as  the  patriarch  Jacob  did,  in  a 
time  of  great  perplexity  and  trouble;  "I  am 
not  worthy  of  the  least  of  all  thy  mercies ;"  yet 
we  are  not  to  despond,  under  this  discouraging 


116 

view  of  our  condition :  a  gracious  remedy  is  pro- 
vided, for  all  these  regrets  and  distresses.  To 
those  who  truly  repent,  and  believe  in  Jesus 
Christ,  the  Redeemer  of  the  world,  a  comfortable 
hope  is  afforded,  that,  through  his  atonement 
arid  intercession,  their  heavenly  Father  will  par- 
don all  their  sins ;  prepare  them,  by  the  opera- 
tions of  his  Holy  Spirit,  for  an  admittance  into 
his  blessed  kingdom;  and  animate  them  with 
gratitude,  love,  and  praises  to  him,  both  now  and 
for  ever. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  observe,  that  whilst 
I  condemn  myself,  for  rating  too  highly,  and 
pursuing  too  ardently,  the  good  things  of  this 
life,  I  do  not  mean  to  insinuate,  that  they  can 
not  be  innocently  enjoyed,  or  that  they  are  to 
be  undervalued  by  those  whose  hearts  are  fixed 
on  a  better  world.  We  sometimes,  however,  meet 
with  persons  of  a  serious  and  peculiar  cast  of 
mind,  who  declaim  against  the  enjoyments  of  life, 
not  only  as  things  of  short  duration ;  but  as  vani- 
ties which  are  not  worth  our  attention,  and  above 
which  the  pious  man  is  so  far  elevated,  as  to  look 
down  upon  them  with  contempt.  This  is  a 
sentiment  which,  1  think,  ought  not,  on  any 
occasion,  to  be  indulged.  The  follies  and  vani- 
ties of  life,  are,  indeed,  to  be  despised ;  and  they 
are  despised,  by  those  who  are  truly  good.  But 


117 


the  provision  which  Divine  Providence  has  gra- 
ciously made,  for  our  accommodation  and  com- 
fort, as  we  pass  through  this  world,  demands 
the  attention  of  a  wise  and  religious  man;  and  it 
should  be  received  with  gratitude  to  the  Giver 
of  every  good  gift.  How  elevated  soever  his 
mind  may  be  above  this  transient  scene,  he  con- 
templates its  lawful  enjoyments  as  happily  suited 
to  his  present  state  of  existence ;  and  he  par- 
takes of  them  with  a  cheerful  and  thankful  heart. 
On  this  subject  the  devout  Addison  has  beauti- 
fully and  gratefully  expressed  his  sentiments. 

Ten  thousand  thousand  precious  gifts, 

My  daily  thanks  employ ; 
Nor  is  the  least  a  cheerful  heart, 

That  tastes  those  gifts  with  joy. 

Through  ev'ry  period  of  my  life, 

Thy  goodness  I'll  pursue ; 
And  after  death,  in  distant  worlds, 

The  glorious  theme  renew. 

At  the  same  time  that  the  pious  and  grateful 
man  perceives,  that  to  him  belongs  "the  promise 
of  the  life  that  now  is,"  as  well  as  "  of  that  which 
is  to  come,"  he  is  deeply  sensible  of  the  dan- 
ger and  temptations  to  which  he  is  exposed; 
and  he  feels  it  his  duty  to  keep  a  perpetual 
watch,  lest  the  continual  and  urgent  solicitation 


118 


of  the  pleasant  things  around  him,  should  draw 
away  his  heart  from  the  love  of  God,  and  a  proper 
concern  for  his  future  happiness.  He  is  anxious 
to  set  a  due  and  proportionate  value  on  all  the 
Divine  gifts,  spiritual  and  temporal.  I  can  con- 
ceive of  no  higher  wisdom,  or  greater  enjoy- 
ment on  earth,  than  this  grateful  sense  of  Divine 
bounty;  this  due  subordination  of  earthly  to 
heavenly  blessings ;  joined  to  a  steady  reliance 
on  the  goodness  and  mercy  of  God,  for  his  pro- 
tection through  this  life,  and  an  inheritance  in 
his  blessed  kingdom  for  ever.  Compared  with 
these  pious  and  rational  enjoyments,  all  the  vain 
pleasures  of  a  worldly  life,  spent  in  forgetfulness 
of  our  great  Benefactor,  are,  indeed,  light  as  air, 
and  empty  as  the  bubbles  of  the  deep. 

With  regard  to  the  privations  and  trials,  with 
which  it  has  pleased  Divine  Providence  to  visit 
me,  I  hope  I  may  say,  without  assuming  too 
much  to  myself,  that  I  have  long  acquiesced 
in  my  lot,  with  resignation  and  cheerfulness. 
Though  I  have  had  for  more  than  twenty  years, 
great  debility  of  body,  and  almost  constant  con- 
finement, proceeding  from  my  inability  to  walk, 
I  do  not  recollect  that,  in  the  course  of  this 
trying  period,  I  ever  repined  at  my  situation,  or 
expressed  a  dissatisfied  sentiment  respecting  it, 
except  on  one  occasion.  This  happened  in  the 


119 

tirst  year  of  my  indisposition,  and  was  produced 
by  the  following  circumstance.    I  had  made  con- 
siderable efforts  to  overcome  the  disorder  with 
which  I  was  affected.     But  perceiving  no  good 
effect  from  any  of  them,  I  began  to  be  tolerably 
reconciled   to  my  condition.     At   this  time,  an 
o- her  physician  was  called  in,  to  assist  the  family 
doctor ;  and  by  his  earnest  recommendation,  I 
was  induced  to  take  a  particular  medicine,  from 
which  he  and  myself  anticipated  much  benefit. 
But  instead  of  being  useful,  it  proved  injurious 
to  me.     The  sanguine  hope  of  relief  which  I  had 
indulged,  made  me  feel  the  disappointment  very 
severely:  and  contemplating,  at  that  moment, 
my  prime  of  life,  and  the  prosperous  circum- 
stances with  which  I  was  surrounded,  I  foolishly 
said,  it  was  hard  that  I  should  be  deprived  of 
health,  at  a  time  when  it  appeared  to  be  so  pe- 
culiarly desirable.     This  expression  was  scarce- 
ly uttered,  when  my  heart  condemned  me  for  its 
rashness.      I  felt  remorse  for  this  want  of  sub- 
mission to   Divine  Providence ;  and  was  much 
humbled   under   the   sense  of  my   folly.     The 
painful  reflections  which  I  had,  on  this  occasion, 
probably  contributed  to  make  me  more  guarded, 
in  future,  against  the   admission  of  thoughts  so 
unjust  and  irreverent.  There  has,  indeed,  amidst 
all  my  privations,  been  no  cause  for  murmuring. 
I  have  possessed  so  many  comforts,  so  many 


120 

sources  of  real  enjoyment,  that  I  have  often 
thought  my  debility  and  confinement  could 
scarcely  be  called  an  affliction.  And  I  sincerely 
lament,  that  I  have  so  little  improved  the  bles- 
sings which  have  been  conferred  upon  me. 

When  I  contemplate  my  own  unworthiness, 
and  the  goodness  of  God  to  me,  through  the 
whole  course  of  my  life,  I  feel  that  I  can  not  be 
too  humble,  nor  too  grateful  for  his  manifold 
mercies.  I  can  not,  indeed,  be  sufficiently  thank- 
ful for  them.  Amidst  the  numerous  blessings 
which  I  have  received,  it  has  afforded  me  pecul- 
iar satisfaction,  that  I  have  been  disposed  to 
ascribe  them  all  to  Him,  as  the  Origin  and  Giver 
of  every  thing  that  is  good ;  as  the  Parent,  Re- 
deemer, and  Sanctifier,  of  men.  If  I  consider  him 
as  my  Creator  and  Preserver;  as  the  Author  of 
the  laws  and  operations  of  nature;  as  the  Control- 
ler and  Director  of  these  laws  and  operations ;  as 
the  immediate  Bestower  of  benefits ;  or,  as  our 
Deliverer  from  sin  and  misery,  and  our  hope  of 
eternal  life,  through  the  sacrifice  and  merits  of 
his  beloved  Son,  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ:  I  per- 
ceive that  he  is  the  Source  whence  every  bles- 
sing is  derived,  and  the  great  object  of  gratitude 
and  love.  But  as  this  is  a  subject  of  high  import- 
ance, and  on  which  I  love  to  dwell,  my  friend 
will  not,  I  am  sure,  think  it  improper,  if  I  express 
myself  upon  it  with  more  particularity. 


121 

As  my  Creator  and  Preserver,  I  owe  to  him  all 
the  faculties  of  my  soul  and  hody,  all  the  capa- 
cities which  I  have  for  the  enjoyment  of  corpo- 
real, intellectual,  and  spiritual  ohjects;  and, 
consequently,  all  the  advantage  and  pleasure  that 
I  have  received  from  these  sources. 

As  the  Author  of  the  laws  of  nature,  of  the 
material,  animal,  and  rational  world,  I  am  in- 
debted to  him  for  every  benefit,  which  I  have 
derived  from  this  grand  system  of  Divine  wis- 
dom and  goodness.  He  has  not  only  given  me 
powers  to  receive  happy  impressions,  but  he  has 
arranged  and  disposed  his  works,  so  that  their 
regular  operations  supply  those  powers  with 
objects,  which  are  calculated  to  employ  and 
gratify  them.  When  this  great  machine  of 
nature,  or  any  part  of  it,  produces  in  me  plea- 
surable or  beneficial  effects,  1  must  attribute 
them  all  to  its  beneficent  Author,  who  superin- 
tends and  permits  these  operations.  If  I  am, 
at  any  time,  enabled  to  conduct  myself  so  hap- 
pily, as  to  receive  particular  benefits  from  this 
arrangement  and  operation  of  second  causes,  I 
still  owe  them  all  to  Him,  who  has  both  pre- 
sented the  feast,  and  given  me  power  to  partake 
of  it,  and  liberty  to  choose  what  is  best  for  me. 
If,  therefore,  I  am  tempted  to  ascribe  any  thing 
exclusively  to  myself,  from  the  right  use  of  my 

18 


122 

ability,  as  a  free  agent,  I  am  instantly  checked 
by  the  reflection,  that  this  ability  itself  is  the  gift 
of  God. 

I  can  not,  on  this  occasion,  avoid  making  a 
few  observations,  respecting  this  important  sen- 
timent, the  free  agency  of  man.  Whatever  diffi- 
culties attend  the  subject,  and  how  perplexed 
soever  it  may  have  been  rendered,  by  the  rea- 
sonings of  subtle  and  ingenious  disputants ;  I 
never  had  a  doubt  of  its  existence.  The  con- 
sciousness which  we  have  of  such  a  power  in  the 
human  mind,  and  the  necessity  there  is  for  it,  in 
order  to  make  us  accountable  beings ;  the  cor- 
respondent declarations  of  the  Holy  Scriptures, 
and  the  dealings  of  God  with  men,  which  always 
suppose  them  to  be  free  and  moral  agents ;  afford 
such  evidence  of  the  truth  of  this  fundamental 
article  of  religion,  as  appears  to  me  irresistible. 
If  we  are  unable  rationally  to  explain  this  prin- 
ciple of  action,  and  to  reconcile  it  with  other 
great  truths ;  we  should  reflect,  that  our  intel- 
lectual powers  are  of  a  very  limited  nature  ;  that 
there  are  many  things  which  we  do  not  under- 
stand, but  which  we  firmly  believe ;  some  points 
of  doctrine  which  we  must  admit,  without  being, 
at  present,  able  to  explain  them.  That  profound 
philosopher,  the  venerable  Locke,  entertained 
the  most  unshaken  belief,  both  in  the  prescience 


123 

of  the  Divine  Being,  and  in  the  free  agency  of 
man ;  though  he  confessed  that  his  finite  capaci- 
ty was  not  able  to  reconcile  them. — -When  we 
have  sufficient  evidence  for  truths  which  we  can 
not  clearly  comprehend,  and  humbly  submit  to 
that  evidence,  faith  becomes  a  special  virtue, 
and  weakness  is  converted  into  strength. — I  will 
not  pursue  this  subject  any  further,  but  proceed 
in  my  remarks  on  the  benefits  we  receive,  and  in 
tracing  the  great  Object  of  our  gratitude. 

As  the  Controller  and  Director  of  the  laws  of 
nature,  I  am  under  peculiar  obligations  to  him, 
for  all  the  comforts  and  benefits,  which,  in  con- 
sequence of  this  direction,  I  have  received. 
This  divine  interposition  to  overrule,  and  ap- 
point the  operation  of  second  causes,  natural  and 
moral,  and  make  them  answer  his  sovereign 
purposes,  constitutes  the  special  government  and 
providence  of  God.  And  all  the  good  obtained, 
and  evil  avoided,  from  this  interposition,  must  be 
attributed  to  Him,  who  not  only  superintends, 
but  rules  and  directs,  all  things,  according  to  his 
pleasure ;  who  can  turn  aside  impending  calam- 
ities, and  convert  that  into  good,  which,  in  its 
natural  progress  or  design,  would  have  been  pro- 
ductive of  injury  to  us. 

If  I  consider  the  Divine  Being,  as  immediately 
influencing  my  mind,  by  the  operation  of  his 


124 

Holy  Spirit;  consoling  me  under  affliction; 
guarding  me  in  prosperity;  strengthening  my 
faith ;  animating  me  to  piety  and  virtue,  and 
supporting  me  in  temptation ;  I  perceive  that 
he  is  eminently  entitled  to  my  gratitude  and 
praise,  for  all  the  blessings  which  I  receive  by 
these  gracious  communications.  He  has  access 
to  the  human  mind,  and  knows  all  its  wants  and 
imperfections;  and  he  has  promised  to  give  the 
Holy  Spirit,  to  be  a  light  and  defence,  a  support 
and  comfort,  to  those  who  implore  his  assistance, 
and  put  their  trust  in  the  Divine  Redeemer  of 
the  world.  And  most  assuredly  he  does  not  fail 
to  perform  these  sacred  promises  to  the  children 
of  men,  though  the  mode  of  his  communications 
is  incomprehensible. 

I  consider  myself  as  under  deep  obligations  to 
God,  for  the  trials  and  afflictions  with  which  he 
has  been  pleased  to  visit  me,  as  well  as  for  the 
prosperous  events  of  my  life.  They  have  been 
the  corrections  and  restraints  of  a  wise  and  mer- 
ciful Father;  and  may  justly  be  ranked  among 
the  number  of  my  choicest  blessings.  I  am  firm- 
ly persuaded,  that  cross  occurrences,  and  ad- 
verse situations,  may  be  improved  by  us  to  the 
happiest  purposes.  The  spirit  of  resignation  to 
the  will  of  Heaven,  which  they  inculcate,  and  the 
virtuous  exertions  to  which  they  prompt  us,  in 


125 

order  to  make  the  best  of  our  condition,  not 
only  often  greatly  amend  it,  but  confer  on  the 
mind  a  strength  and  elevation,  which  dispose 
it  to  survey  with  less  attachment  the  transient 
things  of  time,  and  to  desire  more  earnestly  the 
eternal  happiness  of  an  other  world. 

I  must  not  omit  to  mention,  on  this  occasion, 
that  I  consider  it  as  a  distinguished  felicity,  de- 
manding the  most  grateful  acknowledgments 
to  Almighty  God,  that  I  have  lived  in  a  part  of 
the  world,  which  has  been  enlightened  by  the 
rays  of  the  Gospel ;  where  the  Holy  Scriptures, 
in  their  genuine  purity  and  excellence,  are  read 
and  understood ;  and  where  many  bright  exam- 
ples of  piety  and  virtue,  in  the  various  ranks  and 
walks  of  life,  demonstrate  the  divine  efficacy  of 
the  sublime  truths  and  precepts  of  Christianity. 
This  is  a  blessing  which  it  is  difficult  fully  to 
appreciate.  A  survey  of  the  condition  of  those 
nations,  in  point  of  religion  and  morality,  on 
whom  the  light  of  the  Gospel  has  not  yet  shone, 
may  afford  us  some  conception  of  our  inestima- 
ble privilege,  in  possessing  this  Sacred  Volume: 
which,  as  an  excellent  writer*  observes,  "  has 
God  for  its  author ;  salvation  for  its  end ;  and 
truth,  without  any  mixture  of  error,  for  its 
matter." 

*  Locke. 


126 

From  the  preceding  enumeration  and  view  of 
these  most  interesting  subjects,  even  in  so  con- 
cise and  imperfect  a  manner,  it  must  be  evident, 
that  all  our  benefits,  by  whatever  means  they 
are  conveyed  to  us,  are  derived  from  God,  the 
Fountain  of  life  and  goodness.  And  it  is  scarcely 
possible  to  contemplate  the  blessings  which  have 
been  so  abundantly  bestowed  upon  us ;  and  to 
reflect  on  our  own  unworthiness;  without  being 
deeply  sensible  of  these  mercies,  and  rendering 
to  our  Divine  Benefactor  the  tribute  of  thanks- 
giving and  praise.  On  this  occasion,  the  exam- 
ple and  devotional  spirit  of  the  sweet  Psalmist 
of  Israel,  naturally  present  themselves  to  our 
minds.  He  was  often  and  strongly  impressed 
with  sentiments  of  this  nature:  particularly  when 
he  composed  the  one  hundred  and  third  Psalm;  in 
which  he  thus  pours  forth  his  grateful  emotions. 
"  Bless  the  Lord,  O  my  soul !  and  all  that  is 
within  me  bless  his  holy  name.  Bless  the  Lord,  O 
my  soul !  and  forget  not  all  his  benefits :  who  for- 
giveth  all  thine  iniquities :  who  healeth  all  thine 
infirmities :  who  redeemeth  thy  life  from  de- 
struction ;  and  crowneth  thee  with  loving  kind- 
ness and  tender  mercies."  This  devout  prince 
was  ever  ready  to  ascribe  all  the  blessings  of  his 
life  to  the  goodness  of  God ;  and  took  great  de- 
light in  recounting  his  favours,  and  acknowledg- 


127 

ing  his  care  and  protection.  These  duties  apply 
to  us  also;  and  they  are  enforced  by  the  most 
important  and  interesting  considerations. 

When  we  reflect  on  the  universal  presence  of 
the  Deity,  his  perfect  knowledge  of  all  things, 
and  his  gracious  declaration,  that  we  are  so  much 
regarded  by  him,  that  the  very  hairs  of  our  head 
are  numbered;  can  we  have  the  least  hesitation 
in  acknowledging  his  goodness,  and  his  most  par- 
ticular providence  ?  his  continual,  watchful  at- 
tention over  us,  and  all  our  concerns,  in  order  to 
promote  our  comfort  here,  and  to  train  us  up 
for  happiness  hereafter?  Should  not  the  knowl- 
edge of  his  sacred  presence  and  guardianship, 
excite  us  also  to  the  utmost  circumspection,  in 
our  thoughts,  words,  and  actions  ?  Have  we  not 
abundant  encouragement,  in  all  our  spiritual  and 
temporal  exigencies,  to  apply  to  him,  with  filial 
confidence,  for  the  aid  of  his  Holy  Spirit,  to  en- 
lighten, relieve,  and  support  us  ?  Surrounded  as 
we  are  with  danger  and  temptations,  and  ex- 
posed  to  the  assaults  of  subtle  and  powerful 
enemies,  how  consoling  and  animating  is  the 
thought,  that  the  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth 
knows  perfectly  our  situation;  perceives  with 
complacency  every  virtuous  conflict ;  and  gra- 
ciously interests  himself,  as  a  Father  and  Friend, 
in  our  protection  and  deliverance ! — If  we  were 


128 

duly  influenced  by  these  devout  sentiments,  we 
should  be  prepared  for  all  the  vicissitudes  of  this 
mutable  world :  and  we  should  steadily  pursue 
our  journey  through  it,  always  thankful,  and 
often  rejoicing. 

In  the  course  of  this  narrative,  I  have  occa- 
sionally made  a  number  of  observations  on  serious 
and  religious  subjects ;  and  they  are  the  delib- 
erate convictions  of  my  understanding,  and  the 
genuine  feelings  of  my  heart.  But  I  must  not 
be  understood,  as  at  all  intimating,  that  I  have 
attained  the  virtues,  the  objects  to  which  many 
of  these  observations  refer.  I  know  that  I  am, 
indeed,  very  far  from  such  an  attainment ;  that 
I  have  great  weaknesses,  and  many  imperfec- 
tions ;  and  that  they  are  all,  in  some  degree, 
under  the  influence  of  a  subtle  and  powerful 
adversary,  ever  watchful  to  circumvent  and  de- 
stroy. I  lament  their  operation  and  effects  :  but 
I  trust  that,  by  Divine  Grace,  through  Jesus 
Christ,  I  am,  and  I  shall  be,  enabled  to  maintain 
the  warfare  against  them :  and  a  hope  lives  in 
my  heart,  that,  for  his  sake,  I  shall  finally  be 
made  victorious  over  all  my  spiritual  enemies. 

I  can  not  finish  these  Memoirs  of  my  life,  with- 
out expressing,  still  more  particularly,  my  sense 
of  the  greatest  blessing  which  was  ever  conferred 
on  mankind.  I  mean,  the  redemption  from  sin, 


129 

and  the  attainment  of  a  happy  immortality,  by 
the  atonement  and  intercession  of  our  Lord  and 
Saviour,  Jesus  Christ.     I  contemplate  this  won- 
derful proof  of  the  love  of  God  to  man,  as  an  act 
of  mercy  and  benignity,  which  will  stimulate  the 
gratitude  and  love,  the  obedience,  praise,  and 
adoration,  of  the  redeemed,  through  ages  that 
will  never  end.     This  high   dispensation  is,  in 
every  respect,  adapted  to  our  condition,  as  frail 
and  sinful  creatures.     In  surveying  our  offences 
and  imperfections,  it  prevents  despondence ;  di- 
rects us  where  to  look  for  relief;  and  freely 
offers  us,  if  we  are  truly  penitent,  and  believe  in 
Christ, pardon  and  peace:  in  reflecting  on  our  re- 
ligious attainments,  it  checks  presumption,  and 
keeps  us  humble  :  and,  amidst  all  the  trials  and 
troubles  of  life,  it  cheers  us  with  the  prospect  of 
a  merciful  deliverance,  and  of  being  soon  receiv- 
ed into  those  blissful  regions,  where  we  shall  be 
secured,  eternally  secured, from  sin  and  sorrow; 
where  we  shall  be  admitted  into  the  Divine  pre- 
sence, and  unceasingly  celebrate,  in  joyful  an- 
thems, the  praises  of  the  Father,  the  Son,  and 
the  Holy  Spirit,  one  God  blessed  for  ever.     To 
them  who  obtain  this  glorious  and  happy  state, 
all  the  afflictions  of  the  longest  and  most  painful 
life,  will  then  appear  to  have  been,  indeed,  light 
and  momentary ;  as  a  drop  of  the  ocean,  as  a 
19 


130 

grain  of  sand  on  the  sea-shore,  compared  with 
the  greatness  of  their  felicity,  and  the  endless 
ages  of  its  continuance. — That  this  inestimable 
blessing,  my  dear  friend,  may  be  ours,  v\  hen  we 
have  quitted  this  transient  scene,  is  my  very 
fervent  desire. 

Lindley  Murray. 


MEMOIRS  CONTINUED. 


MEMOIRS  CONTINUED. 


CHAPTER  I. 

CONCLUDING    YEARS    OF    THE    AUTHORS    LIFE. 

I  HAVE  now  presented  to  the  reader  the  short 
but  interesting  recollections  of  the  life  of  Mr. 
Murray ;  which  he  was  induced  to  write  in  con- 
sequence of  my  urgent  request.  They  were 
finished  in  the  spring  of  1809;  and  committed 
to  my  care  in  the  autumn  of  that  year.  On  me 
devolves  the  task  of  completing  them.  Not  long 
before  the  author's  decease,  as  well  as  at  other 
times,  I  wished  and  earnestly  desired  him,  to 
bring  them  down  to  a  much  later  period;  which 
I  believe  he  would  have  done  if  his  life  had  been 
prolonged.  TW  addition  would,  I  doubt  not, 
have  been  peculiarly  interesting  and  edifying; 
and  would  perhaps  have  afforded  an  almost  un- 
equalled proof  of  vigour  of  mind,  and  warmth 
of  benevolent  and  devotional  feeling,  in  very 
advanced  age.  But  as  he  has  performed  more 


134 


than  I  originally  either  proposed  or  expected,  I 
have  no  cause  to  complain ;  and  nothing  to  la- 
ment, but  my  inability  to  do  justice  to  the  sub- 
ject. A  short  account  of  the  concluding  years 
of  his  life,  his  character,  and  some  remarks  on 
his  publications,  will,  I  apprehend,  comprise  all 
that  is  requisite  for  the  information  of  the  reader, 
and  will  complete  my  tribute  to  the  memory  of 
this  excellent  man. 

In  the  course  of  the  narrative,  I  shall  intro- 
duce a  few  circumstances,  which,  according  to 
the  strict  order  of  time,  shquld  have  been  in- 
serted in  Mr.  Murray's  own  memoirs ;  but  which, 
from  modesty,  and  other  obvious  motives,  he 
has  omitted. 

Soon  after  the  conclusion  of  his  memoirs,  he 
experienced  a  considerable  increase  of  debility 
and  indisposition ;  from  which  he  did  not  think 
he  should  recover.  In  that  expectation,  he  fre- 
quently expressed,  as  on  many  similar  occasions, 
his  assured  hope  of  happiness  in  the  life  to  come, 
through  the  merits  and  mediation  of  our  blessed 
Lord  Jesus  Christ ;  utterly  disclaiming  all  con- 
fidence in  any  good  deeds  that  ^  fiad  been  en- 
abled to  do,  and  all  idea  of  acceptance  with  God 
through  them,  or  for  them. 

Till  this  period  he  was  able  to  go  out  daily 
in  his  carriage;  and  in  summer,  he  was  fre- 
quently drawn  about  his  garden  in  a  chair  con- 


135 

veniently  made  for  that  purpose.  But  he  was 
at  length  induced,  though  reluctantly,  to  relin- 
quish all  the  little  exercise  which  he  had  been 
accustomed  to  take.  He  found  that  even  a  very 
small  degree  of  bodily  exertion,  increased  the 
muscular  weakness  of  his  limbs ,  and  that  ex- 
posure to  the  air  occasioned  frequent  and  severe 
colds,  together  with  other  indisposition.  The 
last  time  he  went  out  in  his  carriage,  was  in 
autumn,  1809.  From  that  time  till  his  decease, 
the  space  of  upwards  of  sixteen  years,  he  was 
wholly  confined  to  the  house;  with  the  excep- 
tion of  one  or  two  times,  when,  after  an  illness, 
he  went  out  in  a  sedan,  but  without  receiving 
any  benefit. 

The  total  want  of  exercise  appears  to  have 
brought  on  a  painful  disorder;  which,  in  June, 
1810,  terminated  in  the  discharge  of  a  small 
stone.  His  sufferings  for  some  days  were  severe, 
and,  for  a  few  hours,  acute:  but  his  mind  was,  as 
usual,  calm  and  resigned.  In  an  interval  of  com- 
parative ease,  he  said  :  "My  trust  is  in  the  mercy 
of  God,  through  Christ,  my  Redeemer.  Nothing 
which  I  have  done,  that  may  seem  meritorious, 
affords  me  any  satisfaction,  on  reflection,  except 
as  an  earnest  of  divine  mercy  and  goodness." 
Having  voided  the  stone,  and  finding  instant 
relief,  he  exclaimed,  with  lively  and  grateful 
feeling:  "I  am  eased  of  my  pain!  I  have  great 


136 

cause  to  be  thankful,  even  if  the  relief  should 
prove  but  temporary." 

Some  time  afterwards  he  had  a  slight  return 
of  a  similar  disorder.  And  for  several  succeeding 
years,  he  was  much  afflicted  with  oppressive  lan- 
guor ;  and  with  very  uncomfortable  sensations 
in  his  head,  stomach,  and  bowels.  But,  upon 
the  whole,  his  health  was  not  so  much  impaired 
as  might  have  been  expected,  from  his  total  con- 
finement to  the  house,  his  advanced  age,  and  en- 
feebled constitution.  His  spirits  were,  with 
very  slight  exceptions,  uniformly  good ;  his  de- 
meanour was,  at  all  times,  gentle ;  and  his  dis- 
position, mild,  cheerful,  and  obliging. 

When  his  health  would  allow,  he  found,  till 
the  close  of  life,  much  useful  occupation,  and 
even  amusement,  in  revising  and  improving  his 
Works.  His  grammatical  productions,  in  par- 
ticular, engaged  a  considerable  portion  of  his 
time  and  attention.  As  the  public  had  so  liber- 
ally approved  and  encouraged  them,  he  thought 
it  was  incumbent  upon  him  to  bring  them  as 
near  as  he  could  to  a  state  of  completeness.  He 
was  particularly  solicitous  to  render  them  ex- 
plicit, and  free  from  difficulty;  to  remove  ob- 
jections which  had  occurred,  and  to  prevent 
others  which  might  be  formed,  to  different  parts 
of  the  works.  These  objects,  though  important, 
he  has  in  many  instances  accomplished,  without 


137 

much  alteration.  "  By  the  change  of  a  word," 
he  observes,  "  a  slight  variation  in  the  form  of  a 
phrase,  an  additional  sentence,  or  a  short  note, 
I  have,  as  I  think,  frequently  removed  an  objec- 
tion or  difficulty,  and  made  that  perspicuous, 
which  seemed  to  be  obscure  or  ambiguous.  And 
I  believe  that  all  these  variations  have  been  ef- 
fected, without  any  material  deviations  from  the 
original  plan  and  principles  of  the  Grammar." — 
To  the  octavo  Grammar,  he  made  large  and  im- 
portant additions,  as  well  as  corrections.  The 
later  editions  of  the  duodecimo  Grammar,  Ex- 
ercises, and  Key,  also  underwent  much  amend- 
ment. To  enlarge  and  improve  the  Power  of 
Religion,  was,  from  its  first  publication  to  the 
latest  period  of  the  author's  life,  a  favourite  ob- 
ject of  his  attention.  But  his  parental  care  and 
regard  were  bestowed  on  all  his  works.  What- 
ever he  found  erroneous  or  deficient  in  one  edi- 
tion, he  corrected  or  supplied  in  an  other.  The 
editions  pressed  close  upon  him:  but  they  sel- 
dom failed  to  receive  from  him  some  portion  of 
attention,  and  consequent  benefit.  No  author, 
1  believe,  ever  had  so  much  opportunity  to  re- 
vise, improve,  and  enlarge  his  works;  arid  no  one 
could  have  availed  himself  of  it,  with  greater 
judgment,  or  more  unwearied  vigilance. 

He  was  induced,  also,  to  prepare  some  new 
publications,  which  he  conceived  would  be  use- 
20 


138 

ful.  Having  himself  derived  much  benefit  and 
satisfaction  from  the  frequent  perusal  of  bishop 
Home's  Commentary  on  the  Psalms,  and  being 
desirous  of  extending  that  benefit  to  others,  he 
made  and  published  "  A  Selection"  from  that 
invaluable  work.  It  was  well  received ;  and  has 
been  approved  and  recommended  by  several 
very  respectable  public  critics. 

He  wrote  also  a  little  piece,  published  in  1817, 
"  On  the  Duty  and  Benefit  of  a  daily  Perusal  of 
the  Holy  Scriptures."    It  is  well  composed ;  and, 
I  doubt  not,  it  has  promoted,  in  no  small  degree, 
the  important  object  which  the  author  had  in 
view.     It  expresses,  in  striking  terms,  the  rev- 
erence which  he  felt  for  the  Scriptures  ;  and 
the  benefit  which  he  derived  from  that  serious 
perusal  of  them,  which  he  recommends  to  others. 
To  endeavour  reverently  to  compose  the  mind, 
before  any  portion  of  Scripture  is  read  or  heard; 
and  when  it  is  finished,  to  allow  time,  by  a  short 
pause,  for  devout  meditation,  or  useful  reflection, 
on  what  has  been  read  or  heard ;  is  advice  well 
worthy   of  attention,  and  consonant   with   Mr. 
Murray's  own  practice.     The  inefficacy  which 
usually  attends  the  reading  of  the  Bible,  is  not 
owing  to  any  defect  in  the  sacred  volume ;  but 
to  the  want  of  serious  attention,  or  of  previous 
preparation  in  those  who  read  or  hear. 


139 

Mr.  Murray,  from  his  retired  life  and  unas- 
suming character,  did  not  receive  any  of  those 
academical  honours,  to  which  the  publication  of 
his  grammatical  works,  no  doubt,  fully  entitled 
him.  A  tribute  of  respect  was,  however,  paid  to 
him  by  two  literary  societies  at  New  York.  In 
1810,  he  was  elected  an  honorary  member  of  the 
Historical  Society;  and  in  1816,  of  the  Literary 
and  Philosophical  Society.  But  he  was  not 
covetous  of  honour.  The  high  approbation 
which  his  works  received,  was  gratifying  to  him; 
chiefly  because  it  was  an  earnest  and  a  proof  of 
their  usefulness. 

His  acquaintance  and  society,  particularly 
after  his  works  had  obtained  celebrity,  were 
much  courted  by  respectable  and  literary  per- 
sons. But  there  was  a  genuine  humility,  and 
even  a  diffidence,  in  his  nature,  which  seemed  to 
shrink  from  the  idea  of  personally  attracting  any 
share  of  public  curiosity  or  observation.  The 
general  debility  under  which  he  laboured,  and 
which  was  usually  increased  by  the  exertion  ne- 
cessarily attendant  on  the  receiving  of  strangers, 
and  conversing  with  them,  was,  however,  the 
chief  cause  which  induced  him  to  decline  much 
company.  Indeed,  the  calls,  and  applications 
for  introduction,  which  he  received,  were  so 
numerous,  that  had  he  encouraged  them,  the 
early  and  regular  hours  which  he  kept,  would 


140 

have  been  much  broken  in  upon,  and  the  leisure 
which  he  enjoyed  for  literary  pursuits,  greatly 
interrupted  :  and  it  was  highly  desirable  that 
his  valuable  time  should  be  preserved  free  from 
invasion. 

But  he  did  not,  on  any  occasion,  decline  com- 
pany, because  he  was  unsocial,  or,  in  the  slightest 
degree,  hypochondriacal.  His  friends  frequently 
visited  him :  they  knew  the  hours  most  suitable 
to  him;  they  were  careful  not  to  encroach  too 
much  on  his  time ;  and  they  did  not  expect  him 
to  converse,  when  higher  engagements,  or  indis- 
position, rendered  it  inconvenient.  He  took  a 
lively  concern  in  the  transactions  of  his  domestic 
circle ;  and  conversed,  with  interest,  on  public 
affairs.  When  he  was  in  a  tolerable  state  of 
health,  no  one  more  cheerfully  enjoyed,  or  more 
agreeably  promoted,  social  intercourse.  Far  from 
needing  consolation  from  his  visiters,  he  com- 
municated it  to  them.  Like  a  gentle  stream  by 
the  way  side,  he  enlivened  and  refreshed  them. 

Many  strangers,  however,  and  distinguished 
literary  persons,  were  at  different  times,  and  on 
various  occasions,  introduced  to  him;  and  ex- 
pressed, in  strong  terms,  the  pleasure  which  they 
derived  from  the  interview :  amongst  these  may 
be  particularly  mentioned  the  earl  of  Buchan,  in 
1802,  and  the  Edge  worths,  in  1803.  On  the 
lively  fancy  of  Mr.  Edgeworth  arid  his  daughter 


141 

Maria,  their  visit  to  Holdgate  formed  a  very 
pleasing  picture,  often  reverted  to  with  much 
satisfaction,  in  which  even  "the  benevolent  looks 
of  Mrs.  Murray,  when  she  offered  them  some 
cake  and  wine,  were  not  forgotten."  Their  visit 
was  in  the  evening,  and  wholly  unexpected. 
With  the  kind  reception  which  they  received, 
they  were  much  gratified.  Mr.  Murray  himself 
far  exceeded  their  expectation.  His  personal 
apearance,  his  unassuming  demeanour,  and  his 
conversational  powers,  excited  in  their  minds  a 
most  agreeable  surprise.  When  they  called  at 
Holdgate,  they  were  on  a  tour,  of  which  an  ex- 
cursion to  Paris  had  formed  part.  Mr.  Murray's 
sequestered  little  abode,  and  its  happy  and  res- 
pectable inhabitants,  formed,  no  doubt,  a  very 
striking  contrast  to  the  gay  and  literary  circles 
in  which  they  had  mixed.  They  considered  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Murray  as  "  the  most  striking  example 
of  domestic  happiness,  and  of  religion  without 
ostentation,  or  the  spirit  of  dogmatising,  which 
they  had  ever  beheld." 

Mr.  Murray  bore  his  honours  so  meekly ;  he 
was  so  intelligent,  not  only  on  literary  subjects,, 
but  also  on  the  common  affairs  of  life ;  and  he 
adapted  his  conversation,  so  judiciously  and 
kindly,  to  the  capacities,  tastes,  and  characters, 
of  the  persons  to  whom  it  was  addressed,  that  no 
one,  whether  learned  or  unlearned,  young  or  old, 


142 

gay  or  grave,  could  partake  of  it  without  feeling 
highly  gratified.  In  him  no  one  could  observe 
any  vanity,  egotism,  or  eccentricity.  Few,  I 
believe,  ever  visited  him,  who  did  not  hear 
something  from  him,  to  inform  their  judgment, 
or  to  amend  their  heart. 

Seldom  did  he  make  his  sufferings  and  priva- 
tions the  subject  of  conversation.  When  on 
any  occasion  they  were  mentioned,  he  never 
failed  to  enumerate,  and  frequently  he  expatiated 
very  pathetically  on,  the  many  alleviating  and 
comfortable  circumstances  that  attended  them: 
the  pleasantness  of  his  dwelling;  the  kindness  of 
his  friends ;  the  constant  company,  and  affection- 
ate attention,  of  his  wife ;  the  ability  of  pursu- 
ing literary  occupations ;  and  the  calm  state  of 
his  mind.  He  would  sometimes  say:  "When 
I  first  lost  the  use  of  my  limbs,  and  saw  my 
friends  walking  about,  and  pursuing  their  res- 
pective business  or  amusement,  I  wished  to  be, 
and  to  do,  like  them :  but  now,  by  long  use, 
confinement  has  become  familiar  to  me ;  and,  I 
believe,  it  is  less  irksome  and  afflictive,  than 
many  persons  who  have  not  experienced  it, 
would  imagine.  My  blessings  far  overbalance  my 
afflictions.  Indeed,  I  have  so  many  enjoyments 
yet  left  me,  and  I  possess  so  many  comforts, 
that  I  can  scarcely  term  my  situation  an  afflic- 
tion." He  often  said  that  what  had  very  much 


143 

tended  to  reconcile  him  to  his  confinement,  was 
a  belief  that  he  had  been  more  extensively  use- 
ful, than  he  could  have  been,  if  he  had  continued 
in  the  possession  of  that  health  and  strength 
which  he  once  enjoyed. 

To  pass  from  an  author's  works  to  his  life  and 
conversation,  frequently  occasions  disappoint- 
ment: but  with  respect  to  Mr.  Murray,  the 
transition  was  honourable.  Personal  acquaint- 
ance increased  esteem  and  regard.  Between  his 
life  and  his  works  there  was  a  striking  coinci- 
dence. His  writings  might  be  truly  called  a  fair 
transcript  of  his  mind;  and  his  life  and  conver- 
sation a  beautiful  exemplification  of  the  moral 
and  religious  principles,  which  his  writings  uni- 
formly inculcate. 

For  many  years,  his  infirmities  did  not  allow 
him  to  rise  from  his  seat,  on  the  entrance  of  a 
visiter ;  and  not  unfrequently  the  weakness  of 
his  voice,  contracted  by  severe  colds,  or  by  over- 
exertions,  prevented  his  uttering  any  words  ex- 
cept in  a  whisper:  but  on  such  occasions,  his 
kindly  extended  hand,  and  his  smile  of  ineffable 
benignity,  bespoke  a  welcome  far  more  cordial 
and  affecting,  than  could  have  been  expressed  by 
any  of  the  usual  forms  of  civility. — When  I  first 
saw  him,  he  was  forty-eight  years  of  age :  but 
both  then,  and  long  afterwards,  he  looked  consid- 
erably younger  than  he  really  was.  The  impres- 


144 

sion  which  his  noble  aspect,  his  gentle  demean- 
our, his  cheerful,  sensible,  and,  occasionally,  pi- 
ous conversation,  produced  on  rny  mind,  can  nev- 
er be  obliterated  whilst  my  memory  continues. 

So  excellent  was  his  character,  so  mild  and 
engaging  his  deportment,  that  persons  having 
but  a  very  slight  acquaintance  with  him,  or 
seeing  him  only  occasionally  on  business,  seemed 
to  contract  a  strong  personal  regard  for  him : 
they  frequently  inquired,  with  apparent  solici- 
tude, respecting  his  health ;  and  spoke  of  him 
in  terms  of  the  highest  respect  and  esteem. 
Even  strangers,  merely  from  the  report  which 
they  heard  of  him,  would  solicitously  inquire 
after  him;  and,  not  unfrequently,  send  him 
some  little  message,  or  token,  of  respect.  To 
know  him,  though  but  imperfectly,  was  to  love 
and  esteem  him ;  and  if  any  persons  did  not  love 
and  esteem  him,  it  was  because  they  did  not 
know  him,  or  had  not  heard  the  full  and  true  re- 
port of  his  good  deeds  and  amiable  disposition. 

Mr.  Murray  was  much  respected  by  many  of 
his  most  distinguished  cotemporaries  in  America. 
When  his  works  had  procured  for  him  a  high 
degree  of  celebrity,  the  testimony  of  their  appro- 
bation, especially  of  those  with  whom  he  had 
been  personally  acquainted,  was  peculiarly  ac- 
ceptable to  him.  From  his  fellow-student,  Mr. 
Jay,  and  from  many  other  highly  respectable 


145 


persons,  he  received,  on  various  occasions,  let- 
ters replete  with  expressions  of  esteem,  regard, 
and  warm  congratulation. 

Several  of  his  countrymen,  at  different  times, 
visited  him :  two  of  whom  having,  in  their  trav- 
els, given  an  account  of  their  visit,  I  shall  di- 
versify this  narrative,  by  giving  an  extract  from 
each. 

The  first  is  from  "  Travels  in  England,  Hol- 
land, and  Scotland,  by  Benjamin  Silliman,  profes- 
sor of  chemistry,  at  Yale  College,  Connecticut." 

"  Towards  evening,"  (Nov.  19, 1805,)  "I  went 
out  on  horseback  to  Holdgate,  a  village  in  the 
vicinity  of  York;  for  the  purpose  of  seeing  a 
countryman  of  ours,  who  is  well  known  to  the 
world,  both  by  his  writings  and  the  excellence 
of  his  character.  I  carried  an  introductory  letter, 
which  procured  me  the  kindest  reception ;  and 
all  unnecessary  ceremony  being  waved,  I  was 
seated  at  once  between  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Murray. 

Mr.  Murray,  I  need  not  inform  you,  enjoys  a 
distinguished  literary  reputation ;  and  this,  al- 
though well  deserved,  is  by  no  means  his  most 
enviable  distinction,  for  he  is  an  eminently  good 
man.  Being  afflicted  with  a  muscular  weakness 
in  his  limbs,  he  removed,  about  twenty  years 
ago,  from  New  York  to  England,  hoping  for 
relief  from  the  temperate  climate  of  this  island. 
The  expected  benefit  he  has  not  been  so  happy 

21 


146 


as  to  obtain;  his  debility  still  continues  to  such  a 
degree,  that  he  can  walk  only  a  few  steps  at  once* 

I  found  him  sitting  on  a  sofa,  to  which  he 
has  been  generally  confined  for  many  years. 
Although  unable  to  benefit  mankind  by  active 
exertions  in  any  of  the  common  pursuits  of  busi- 
ness, he  has  made  full  amends  by  the  labours  of 
his  mind.  In  the  chaste,  perspicuous,  and  pol- 
ished style  of  his  writings,  in  the  pure  and  dig- 
nified moral  sentiments  which  they  contain, 
and  even  in  the  simple  and  yet  elegant  typo- 
graphical execution,  one  may  discern  proofs  of 
the  character  of  the  man.  He  belongs  to  the 
society  of  Friends;  but  both  he  and  Mrs.  Mur- 
ray have  so  tempered  the  strictness  of  the  man- 
ners peculiar  to  their  society,  that  they  are  pol- 
ished people,  with  the  advantage  of  the  utmost 
simplicity  of  deportment. 

I  was  fortunate  in  finding  Mr.  Murray  able  to 
converse  with  freedom;  for,  at  times,  he  is  un- 
able to  utter  even  a  whisper,  and  is  compelled 
to  decline  seeing  his  friends.  Our  conversation 
related  principally  to  literature,  morals,  and  re- 
ligion; and  the  state  of  these  important  subjects 
in  the  United  States  and  in  England.  I  asked 
him  if  he  had  relinquished  the  idea  of  returning 
to  his  country,  and  of  observing  the  great  change 
which  these  things  had  undergone  in  a  period  of 
twenty  years.  He  said  that  he  still  cherished  a 


147 

faint  hope  of  seeing  his  native  land  again  ;  that 
hope  was,  like  a  star,  often  obscured,  but  twink- 
ling now  and  then,  to  revive  his  spirits. 

One  would  suppose  that  a  situation  so  peculiar 
as  that  Mr.  Murray,  would  naturally  induce  a 
degree  of  impatience  of  temper,  or  at  least  of 
depression  of  spirits;  but  I  know  not  that  I 
have  ever  seen  more  equanimity,  and  sweetness 
of  deportment,  joined  with  a  more  serene  and 
happy  cheerfulness,  than  in  this  instance.  When 
the  painful  circumstances  of  his  situation  were 
alluded  to,  he  expressed  his  gratitude  to  Heaven, 
for  the  many  comforts  and  alleviations  which, 
he  said,  he  enjoyed  under  his  confinement. 

You  would  not  judge  from  his  appearance  that 
he  is  an  infirm  man,  for  his  countenance  is  rather 
ruddy;  and  it  is  animated  with  a  strong  expres- 
sion of  benevolence.  His  person  is  tall,  and 
well-formed ;  and  his  manner  of  conversing  is 
modest,  gentle,  easy,  and  persuasive. 

Being  afraid  of  inducing  him  to  converse  be- 
yond his  strength,  towards  the  close  of  the 
evening  I  reluctantly  rose  to  come  away;  and 
was  solicited,  in  the  most  gratifying  manner,  to 
protract  and  repeat  my  visit.  Declining  the 
former,  and  having  no  prospect  of  the  latter,  I 
took  a  cordial  farewell  of  these  excellent  people; 
and  rode  back  to  York  with  impressions  of  the 
most  agreeable  kind. 


148 

Who  would  not  rather  be  Mr.  Murray,  con- 
fined to  his  sofa,  than  Napoleon,  the  guilty  pos- 
sessor of  a  usurped  crown,  and  the  sanguinary 
oppressor  of  Europe  ?" 

The  second  extract  is  from  a  work  entitled, 
"  A  Year  in  Europe,  in  1818  and  1819,  by  John 
Griscom,  professor  of  chemistry  and  natural 
philosophy  in  the  New  York  Institution." 

"  Among  the  social  occurrences  which  I  shall 
remember  with  the  most  pleasure,  is  a  visit  this 
afternoon,"  (27th  of  February,  1819,)  "to  our 
very  estimable  countryman,  Lindley  Murray. 
He  still  resides  at  the  little  village  of  Holdgate, 
about  three  quarters  of  a  mile  from  the  city  of 
York.  His  increasing  infirmity  of  body  has 
latterly  been  such,  as  to  prevent  him  from  re- 
ceiving the  visits  of  strangers.  But  coming 
from  New  York,  and  being  acquainted  with  his 
nearest  relations,  he  was  induced  to  yield  to  my 
request  and  grant  me  an  interview.  Though  so 
weak  as  to  be  scarcely  able  to  bear  his  own 
weight,  he  has  been  enabled,  by  the  power  of 
a  strong  and  well  balanced  mind,  and  by  the 
exercise  of  the  Christian  virtues,  to  gain  a  com- 
plete ascendency  over  himself;  and  to  exhibit  an 
instance  of  meekness,  patience,  and  humility, 
which  affords,  I  may  truly  say,  one  of  the  most 
edifying  examples  I  have  ever  beheld.  His 
mind  is  still  clear,  sound,  and  discriminating; 


149 

and  he  feels  the  interest  of  a  true  philanthropist, 
in  the  progress  of  education,  and  the  general 
welfare  of  his  fellow-creatures.  I  have  been 
informed,  by  persons  who  were  his  youthful 
cotemporaries,  that  he  was  possessed  by  nature 
of  great  vivacity  of  feeling,  and  passions  not  less 
difficult  to  control,  than  those  which  fall  to  the 
ordinary  lot  of  humanity.  But  so  effectually 
have  the  graces  of  the  Christian  surmounted  the 
waywardness  of  nature,  and  diffused  their  benign 
influence  over  the  whole  teriour  of  his  mind,  as 
to  produce  upon  his  countenance,  a  lustre  and  a 
sweetness  of  expression,  'with  less  of  earth  in 
them  than  heaven.' 

The  temperature  of  his  room  is  regulated  by 
the  thermometer.  A  constant  care  of  this  kind, 
joined  to  temperance  in  diet,  has  enabled  him  to 
live  without  exercise ;  to  support  a  frame  of  un- 
usual debility;  and  to  prolong  to  old  age,  a  life 
of  the  greatest  usefulness  to  his  fellow-creatures. 
Having  brought  with  him  to  England  a  fortune 
competent  to  his  moderate  wants,  he  has  devoted 
the  whole  profit  of  his  literary  labours  to  the 
promotion  of  various  benevolent  institutions,  and 
to  other  deeds  of  charity.  He  has  been  blessed 
with  a  most  amiable  and  intelligent  wife;  the 
companion  of  his  early  years,  and  the  faithful 
and  sympathizing  partner  in  all  that  concerns 
him.  A  young  woman,  who  serves  them  as 


150 

housekeeper,  appears  also  well  qualified,  by  the 
respectability  of  her  character  and  acquirements, 
to  perform  the  duties  of  an  almost  filial  trust. 

It  is  thirty-four  years  since  this  worthy  pair 
left  their  native  shores :  but  their  feelings  are 
still  American ;  and  to  listen  to  a  particular  re- 
lation of  the  enlargement  of  our  cities,  and  the 
progress  of  the  country,  afforded  them  evidently 
the  most  lively  satisfaction ;  while,  at  the  same 
time,  a  consideration  of  the  small  number  of  the 
numerous  acquaintance  they  left  behind,  who 
are  now  on  the  stage  of  life,  gave  to  the  con- 
versation a  placid  melancholy,  which  served  but 
to  increase  the  warmth  and  tenderness  of  the 
interview." 

Mr.  Murray  lived,  during  a  long  course  of 
years,  a  very  retired  life.  Though  an  object  of 
general  esteem,  respect,  and  admiration,  he  was 
known  intimately,  or  even  personally,  but  to 
few.  The  following  particulars,  therefore,  re- 
specting his  habits  and  manners  of  living,  though 
minute,  may  perhaps  be  acceptable  to  the  reader, 
and  not  devoid  of  interest;  and,  in  time  to  come, 
they  may  supply  the  place  of  vague,  traditionary 
report.  In  a  physical  point  of  view,  they  may 
also  be  useful.  It  has  frequently  been  made  a 
subject  of  inquiry,  how  a  person  could  support 
entire  confinement  to  the  house,  and  even  to  one 
seat,  during  many  years,  and  yet  preserve  to  the 


151 


last,  a  comfortable  state  of  health,  evenness  and 
cheerfulness  of  spirits,  and  surprising  vigour  of 
mind. 

Mr.  Murray  carefully  avoided  all  habits  of 
indolence,  both  with  respect  to  body  and  mind. 
He  generally  rose  about  seven  o'clock  in  the 
morning;  but  rather  later  in  the  depth  of  winter. 
When  he  was  dressed,  and  seated  in  an  arm 
chair,  which  had  casters,  his  wife  rolled  him,  with 
ease,  to  the  sofa,*  in  his  sitting  room ;  on  which, 
after  he  gave  up  taking  any  exercise,  he  sat 
during  the  whole  day.  At  meal  times,  the  table 
was  brought  to  him.  At  other  times,  a  small 
stand,  with  a  portable  writing  desk  on  it,  was 
generally  before  him.  The  papers  and  books 
which  he  was  using,  were  laid  on  the  sofa,  by  his 
side:  but  they  were  usually  removed  before  the 
entrance  of  any  visiter,  as  he  disliked  the  parade 
of  literature.  His  wife  sat  on  a  chair  close  by 
his  side;  except  when,  through  courtesy,  she 
relinquished  her  seat  to  some  friend,  or  visiter, 
with  whom  he  wished  particularly  to  converse. 
The  room  being  rather  narrow,  the  sofa  was 
placed  against  the  wall.  Mr.  Murray  never  sat 
by  the  fire:  but  to  avoid  the  draught  from  the 
doors  and  windows,  he  was  obliged  to  sit  nearly 

*  The  sofa  which  he  had  brought  with  him,  from  America; 
and  on  which  he  sat,  or  lay,  daring  the  voyage. 


152 

opposite ;  from  the  ill  effects  of  which,  he  was 
guarded  by  a  small  skreen,  between  him  and  the 
fire.  He  attributed,  in  a  great  measure,  the 
preservation  of  his  sight  to  extreme  old  age,  to 
his  constantly  avoiding  the  glare  of  fire  and 
candles.  When  he  read  or  wrote  by  candlelight, 
he  used  a  shade  candlestick. 

His  sitting  room  was  of  a  good  size,  and 
particularly  pleasant,  having  a  window  at  each 
end:  the  one  with  a  south  aspect,  looked  to  the 
garden;  the  other  to  the  turnpike-road,  and  to 
some  fields,  across  one  of  which,  was  a  pathway 
leading  to  the  city  of  York.  The  trees  and 
flowers  in  his  garden,  the  passengers  on  the  road 
and  pathway,  and  the  rural  occupations  in  the 
fields,  afforded  a  pleasing  diversity  of  scene, 
cheering  to  his  mind,  and  relieving  to  his  eyes, 
when  fatigued  with  composing,  reading,  or 
writing.  An  awning  was  placed  in  summer, 
over  the  south  window,  to  shade  off  the  rays  of 
the  sun.  Thus  secured,  and  having  a  constant 
but  almost  imperceptible  ventilation,  occasioned 
by  two  large  windows  opposite  to  each  other, 
and  also  by  two  doors  and  the  fire,  the  room  was 
always  sweet,  fresh,  and  salubrious.  A  fire,  even 
in  summer,  was  constantly  kept  up  through  the 
whole  day,  which,  as  Mr.  Murray  justly  ob- 
served, tended  to  carry  off  the  noxious  particles 
of  air ;  but  the  room,  in  the  warmest  weather, 


153 

was  considerably  cooler  and  fresher  than  apart' 
ments  usually  are.  Mr.  Murray  could  not  bear 
a  partial  exposure  to  the  air;  therefore,  he  never 
sat  with  the  doors  or  windows  open.  But  in 
the  morning,  before  he  came  into  the  room,  it 
was  completely  ventilated  by  the  opening  of  both 
windows  for  a  short  time ;  and  thus  a  free  cur- 
rent of  air  was  admitted.  His  bed  room  was 
also  ventilated  once  or  twice  during  the  course 
of  the  day.  So  sensible  was  he  of  the  pernicious 
effects  of  breathing  vitiated  air,  that  he  never 
had  the  curtains  of  his  bed  drawn.  As  a  further 
preventive  from  over  heating  his  sitting  room,  he 
had  two  of  Fahrenheit's  thermometers  :  the  one 
was  placed  at  the  outside  of  the  north  window; 
the  other  was  hung  in  the  room,  at  a  distance 
from  the  fire.  The  temperature  of  the  room  was 
usually  from  sixty-three  to  sixty-five  degrees. 

Mr.  Murray's  bed  room  was  large ;  it  had  the 
same  aspect,  and  was  on  the  same  floor,  as  his 
sitting  room,  and  opened  into  it ;  and  had  also 
two  windows,  one  at  each  end.  But  as  the  chim- 
ney could  not  be  made  to  carry  up  the  smoke,  he 
was  obliged  in  all  his  illnesses,  when  the  weather 
was  cold,  to  have  a  bed  brought  in'o  his  sitting 
room ;  and  in  that  room,  very  near  the  seat  on 
which  he  had  done  so  much  good,  he  breathed 
his  last,  and  passed,  I  trust,  from  the  employ- 
ments of  time  to  the  rewards  of  eternity. 

22 


154 

Soon  after  he  came  into  his  sitting  room,  in 
the  morning,  he  took  his  breakfast ;  after  which, 
his  wife,  or  some  one  of  his  family,  read  to  him 
a  portion  of  the  Scripture,  or  of  some  other  re- 
ligious book.  Home's  Commentary  on  the 
Psalms,  and  Doddridge's  Family  Expositor,  omit- 
ting the  notes  and  paraphrase,  were  the  books 
which  he  chiefly  used  for  this  purpose,  arid  also 
for  his  evening  meditation.  After  a  short  pause, 
he  proceeded  to  transact  the  business  of  the  day, 
of  which  the  hearing  or  reading  of  a  daily  jour- 
nal formed  part;  or  he  applied  immediately  to 
his  literary  avocations.  Until  he  became  wholly 
confined  to  the  house,  he  took  an  airing  in  his 
carriage,  from  twelve  till  half-past  one.  At  two 
he  dined.  After  dinner,  he  sat  quite  still,  closed 
his  eyes,  and  sometimes  dozed,  for  nearly  half  an 
hour;  a  practice  which  he  brought  with  him 
from  America,  and  by  which  he  found  his 
strength  and  spirits  much  recruited:  then  he  re- 
sumed his  occupations;  and  continued  them  for 
some  hours,  unless  interrupted  by  company. 
Religious  reading  in  the  family,  and  meditation, 
closed  the  day.  At  ten,  he  and  all  his  house- 
hold retired  to  rest.  This  course  of  life  he  con- 
tinued, with  little  variation,  during  the  whole  of 
his  residence  in  England. 

There  was  nothing  particular  in  his  diet.  It 
was  simple.  He  did  not  use  tobacco  in  any 


155 

shape.  He  never  took  spirits,  and  but  seldom 
wine ;  and  then  only  half  a  glass  at  most.  At 
dinner,  he  was  accustomed,  for  many  years  after 
he  came  into  this  country,  to  take  about  a  gill  of 
London  porter:  afterwards,  he  gradually  di- 
minished the  quantity,  until  he  reduced  it  only 
to  a  wine  glass,  diluted  in  warm  water.  His 
breakfast  and  supper  were,  for  some  years,  new 
milk  and  baked  rice,  or  sometimes  toasted  bread; 
afterwards,  chocolate  boiled  in  milk  and  water, 
and  bread.  At  dinner,  he  partook  of  meat, 
vegetables,  pudding,  and  other  ordinary  dishes ; 
but  all  cooked  in  a  plain  way.  He  did  not,  at 
dinner,  eat  of  more  than  one  dish  of  meat.  In 
the  afternoon,  he  sometimes  took  about  half  a 
cup  of  tea,  or  of  milk  and  water;  but  more  fre- 
quently instead  of  it,  a  small  quantity  of  straw- 
berries, grapes,  or  other  sweet  fruits,  out  of  his 
garden,  or  dried  plums.  Except  in  serious  ill- 
ness, he  took  no  medicine ;  and  even  then  but 
little :  being  of  opinion  that  the  too  frequent  use 
of  it  weakens  the  tones  of  the  stomach.  Of  the 
beneficial  effects  of  friction,  by  the  hand  simply, 
he  was  thoroughly  convinced.  He  made  fre- 
quent, if  not  daily  use  of  it ;  and  never  failed  to 
have  recourse  to  it  when  his  head,  or  any  part 
of  his  body,  was  affected  with  uncomfortable  sen- 
sations, particularly  of  a  rheumatic  nature.  He 
was  of  opinion  that  it  not  only  produced  local 


156 

benefit ;  but  that,  in  his  particular  case,  it  tend- 
ed, in  a  considerable  degree,  to  supply  the  want 
of  other  exercise.  His  appetite,  till  within  a 
few  years  previous  to  his  decease,  was  good, 
and  rather  uncommon,  considering  his  sedentary 
life.  Much  of  that  comfortable  state  of  health 
and  vigour  of  mind,  which  he  enjoyed  in  his  old 
age,  must  be  ascribed,  under  the  blessing  of 
Providence,  to  his  temperance  aud  moderation, 
to  his  judicious  self-management,  and  to  that 
peacefulness  and  serenity,  which  are  the  usual 
concomitants  of  a  good  and  pious  life. 

In  the  year  1819,  Mr.  Murray  lost  his  much 
esteemed  brother,  John  Murray,  of  New  York. 
In  his  character,  and  in  some  of  the  circumstan- 
ces of  his  life,  he  bore  a  striking  resemblance 
to  our  author.  He  was  of  a  lively  and  active 
disposition ;  kind  and  liberal,  humane  and  pious. 
Early  in  life,  he  engaged  in  mercantile  pursuits  ; 
in  which  he  was  highly  successful :  but,  in  the 
prime  of  life,  having  acquired  a  competency,  he 
relinquished  them,  and  devoted  the  remainder  of 
his  days  to  the  service  of  religion  and  humanity. 
He  was  particularly  distinguished  by  his  endeav- 
ours to  promote  the  abolition  of  slavery ;  to 
ameliorate  the  condition  of  the  Indians  of  North 
America ;  and  to  establish  and  support  various 
institutions  at  New  York,  for  the  relief  of 
poverty,  and  the  improvement  of  public  morals. 


157 

He  was  of  a  remarkably  liberal  and  catholic 
spirit.  In  the  prosecution  of  his  benevolent  de- 
signs, he  associated  much  and  freely  with  per- 
sons of  various  religious  denominations.  He 
often  expressed  an  earnest  desire,  that  Christians 
should  avoid  unnecessary  disputes  about  non- 
essentials,  and  unite  in  promoting  the  common 
cause,  in  which  they  all  profess  to  be  engaged. 

Some  years  before  his  death,  being  at  Albany, 
on  public  business,  when  the  streets  were  cover- 
ed with  ice,  he  had  a  fall,  from  the  effects  of  which 
he  never  recovered.  He  continued  lame,  and  in 
a  disabled  state  of  body ;  and  suffered  great  and 
almost  constant  pain ;  but  he  endured  the  afflic- 
tion with  fortitude  and  Christian  patience ;  nor 
did  it  materially  interrupt  his  career  of  benevo- 
lence. He  died  in  an  act  of  supplication  to  the 
Lord. — His  charities  did  not  terminate  with  his 
life.  By  his  last  will,  he  made  many  ample  do- 
nations and  bequests  for  public  and  private 
benefit.  His  name  is  remembered  at  New  York, 
with  respect  and  gratitude,  as  a  benefactor  of 
his  country. 

He  left  behind  him  two  sons,  and  a  widowed 
daughter :  who,  in  some  degree,  supplied  to  Mr. 
Murray,  the  loss  which  he  had  sustained  of  a 
kind  and  intelligent  correspondent,  in  his  native, 
but  far  distant  land. 


158 

After  the  decease  of  his  brother,  our  author 
found  himself  the  last  surviving  child  of  his  pa- 
rents. They  had  twelve  children:  and  to  him 
appertained  the  peculiar  circumstance  of  being 
the  first  and  the  last  of  them  all ;  affording  thus 
a  striking  instance  of  the  uncertain  tenure  of 
life.  When  he  left  New  York,  he  had  a  brother 
living,  and  three  sisters.  They  were  in  health 
and  vigour,  and  considerably  younger  than  him- 
self. He  was  feeble  and  languishing :  but,  in 
course  of  years,  they  all  died;  and  he  lived  to 
mourn  the  loss  of  them,  and  to  embalm  their 
memory. 

When  speaking  of  the  many  deprivations 
which  he  had  sustained,  of  kind  friends  and  re- 
latives, a  circumstance  which  in  his  lengthened 
life,  was  inevitable,  he  often  said,  in  the  words 
of  the  poet : 

"  Our  little  lights  go  out  one  by  one/' 

But  after  all  his  bereavements,  he  still  pos- 
sessed, as  he  observed,  the  uncommon  privilege 
and  providential  favour  of  having  his  beloved 
wife  preserved  to  him.  The  continuance  of  this 
blessing  to  the  end  of  his  days  was  inestimable. 
No  one,  however  kindly  disposed,  could  have 
supplied  to  him  the  place  of  a  most  affectionate 
wife;  a  constant  companion  and  faithful  at- 
tendant ;  a  beloved  friend,  with  whom,  from  his 


159 

youth,  he  took  sweet  counsel  on  all  the  concerns 
of  his  life.  He  often  said,  he  had  abundant 
cause  to  value  her  very  highly,  and  to  consider 
her  as  the  greatest  temporal  blessing  of  his  life ; 
and  she  was  indeed  fully  entitled  to  his  love  and 
esteem. 

Mrs.  Murray  is  not  a  showy  woman,  nor  par- 
ticularly literary :  but  she  possesses  a  solid  un- 
derstanding, great  firmness  of  mind,  and  a  par- 
ticularly kind  disposition.  To  the  poor  and 
afflicted,  she  is,  in  a  high  degree,  liberal  and 
compassionate.  By  her  skill  and  prudence  in 
the  management  of  her  household  affairs,  she 
relieved  her  husband  from  all  care  or  anxiety 
on  those  subjects.  She  was  most  tenderly  at- 
tached, and  even  devoted,  to  him  ;  always  pre- 
ferring his  gratification  to  her  own.  Her  aged 
and  beloved  father,  and  a  large  circle  of  rela- 
tives and  friends,  she  freely  left  to  accompany 
her  husband  into  England.  For  many  years 
after  she  came  into  this  country,  she  still  called 
New  York  her  home ;  but  she  never  requested 
or  wished  him  to  return.  She  encouraged  and 
assisted  him,  as  far  as  she  was  able,  in  every 
good  word  and  work;  and  often  expressed  her 
solicitous  desire,  that  both  she,  and  her  "  pre- 
cious husband,"  as  she  frequently  called  him, 
"  might  so  pass  through  this  life,  as  not  to  fail  of 
future  and  everlasting  bliss ;"  adding :  « If  we 


160 

are  but  prepared  for  that  happy  state,  we  need 
not  fear  how  soon  we  depart  hence."  During 
the  latter  years  of  her  husband's  life,  she  scarce- 
ly ever  quitted  the  house ;  and  very  rarely  the 
two  rooms  occupied  by  him.  She  said,  she  was 
most  comfortable  with  him;  and  that  if  he  were 
taken  ill  suddenly,  as  was  sometimes  the  case,  she 
could  never  forgive  herself,  if  she  were  absent. 

As  Mrs.  Murray  is  still  living,  it  may  seem 
indelicate  to  speak  of  her  in  terms  thus  com- 
mendatory. But  she  is  so  intertwined  with  the 
memory  of  her  husband,  that  I  could  not  write 
any  account  of  him  without  mentioning  her ;  and 
I  could  not  mention  her  except  to  praise  her. 

On  the  anniversary  of  their  marriage,  the 
twenty-second  of  June,  which  was  also  the  birth- 
day of  his  wife,  he  never  failed  to  congratulate 
her  on  the  return  of  that  auspicious  day.  On 
some  of  these  occasions,  occurring  in  a  late  pe- 
riod of  their  union,  he  offered  his  congratulation 
not  only  verbally,  but  also  in  WTiting :  thus  giv- 
ing additional  force,  as  well  as  permanence,  to 
the  expression  of  his  sentiments.  In  these  written 
testimonials,  which  she  justly  esteems  amongst 
the  most  valuable  of  her  possessions,  he  assures 
her  that  during  the  whole  period  of  their  union, 
she  has  been,  by  far,  his  greatest  earthly  treasure: 
that  in  health  and  sickness,  in  prosperous  and 
adverse  situations,  in  all  the  varied  events  of 


161 


their  lives,  he  has  ever  found  her  the  same  uni- 
form, kind,  and  fa'chful  friend,  the  sweetener  and 
improver  of  every  allotment:  and  he  offers  her 
his  most  grateful  acknowledgments  for  her  cor- 
dial attachment,  and  affectionate  services ;  for  her 
kind  assiduity,  and  tender  solicitude,  to  promote 
his  comfort  and  happiness  in  every  respect. 

From  these  beautiful  little  effusions  of  devo- 
tional, as  well  as  conjugal  feeling,  I  have  plea- 
sure in  presenting  to  the  reader,  a  few  extracts ; 
which  evince  not  only  Mr.  Murray's  tender  re- 
gard for  his  wife,  in  the  decline  of  life,  but  also 
his  increasing  piety,  his  deep  humility,  and  the 
ground  of  his  hope  of  finding  mercy  and  accept- 
ance with  God. 

1809.  "This,  my  beloved  Hannah,  is  the 
forty-second  anniversary  of  that  happy  period, 
when  we  were  joined  together  in  the  tender  and 
sacred  bonds  of  wedlock.  To  me  this  event  has 
ever  proved  most  auspicious;  and  I  am  per- 
suaded that  my  choice  could  not  have  been  hap- 
pier. I  have  never  seen  a  single  moment,  that 
I  could  have  wished  my  choice  had  been  differ- 
ent. But  a  few  more,  at  the  most,  can  be  the 
returns  of  this  happy  day.  Perhaps  not  an  other 
may  be  given  to  us.  If  that  should  be  the  case, 
let  the  surviver  rather  be  thankful  that  so  much 
has  been  bestowed,  than  murmur  because  no 
more  was  allowed.  It  is  an  inexpressible  com- 

23 


162 


fort,that  our  latter  years  have  been  the  sweetest 
to  us,  though  every  part  of  our  connexion  has 
been  pleasant* 

When  the  time  comes,  whether  sooner  or  later, 
that  we  must  part,  may  the  surviver  be  blessed 
with  the  hope  and  faith,  that  a  little  time  will 
reunite  us  in  the  blessed  abodes:  where  we 
shall  have,  with  purified  affections  and  enlarged 
minds,  to  sing  the  praises  of  our  God  and  Sav- 
iour, through  the  endless  ages  of  eternity." 

1812.  "This  day,  my  beloved  Hannah,  it  is 
forty-five  years,  since  we  were  joined  together 
in  the  pleasant  bonds  of  marriage.  I  feel  grate- 
ful to  my  heavenly  Father,  for  the  blessing  of  so 
kind,  and  faithful,  and  so  very  suitable  a  part- 
ner. Our  connexion  has  continued  for  a  much 
longer  period,  than  is  common;  and  this  is  an 
additional  source  of  thankfulness  to  the  bountiful 
Author  of  all  Good,  But  the  longer  we  have 
been  preserved  to  each  other,  the  shorter  must 
be  the  time  that  remains.  May  it  be  studiously 
improved  to  the  glory  of  God,  and  our  own  final 
happiness ! 

It  is  an  inexpressible  satisfaction  to  reflect, 
that  our  latter  days  have  been  our  best  days; 
and  that  a  desire  for  each  other's  welfare,  has  in- 
creased as  we  advanced  in  life.  May  our  prayers 
and  labours  for  each  other's  future  felicity,  grow 
more  and  more  ardent,  during  the  remainder  of 


163 

our  short  time ;  and  may  the  surviver  rather  be 
thankful  for  the  mercies  that  are  past,  than  dwell 
mournfully  on  those  which  are  taken  away.  A 
little  time  after  the  separation,  will,  I  humbly 
hope,  reunite  our  spirit^  in  a  better  world ;  where 
we  shall  glorify,  praise,  and  serve  our  heavenly 
Father,  Redeemer,  and  Sanctifier,  for  endless 
ages,  with  enlarged  understandings  and  purified 
affections,  as  the  greatest  happiness,  and  highest 
perfection,  of  which  our  nature  is  capable." 

1817.  "This  day,  my  beloved  Hannah,  we 
have  been  united  in  the  sacred  bonds  of  wedlock, 
for  fifty  years,  half  a  century  !  How  very  few 
have  lived  together  so  many  years,  in  this  happy 
connexion ! — Many  are  the  dangers  we  have 
escaped,  and  the  preservations  we  have  expe- 
rienced, during  this  length  of  time,  which  have 
been  seen  and  observed  by  us:  but  innumerable, 
perhaps,  have  been  the  deliverances  and  pro- 
tections, that  were  unseen  and  unknown,  which 
a  gracious  and  merciful  Providence  has  extended 
towards  us !  For  these,  and  all  his  mercies  and 
blessings  with  which  we  have  been  favoured,  we 
are  bound  to  praise  and  glorify  Him,  to  adore, 
love,  and  serve  Him,  most  gratefully,  during  the 
short  remaining  period  of  our  lives  here ;  and  in 
his  holy  and  happy  kingdom  hereafter,  if  we 
should  be  blessed,  as  I  humbly  hope  we  shall, 
to  be  partakers  of  that  heavenly  inheritance. 


164 

May  we,  my  dear  Hannah,  be  very  diligent  to 
improve  the  remaining  portion  of  time,  whether 
it  be  longer  or  shorter :  so  that  we  may,  at  last, 
when  the  hour  of  parting  comes,  have  a  well 
founded  hope  that  the  season  of  separation  will 
be  short ;  and  take  leave  of  each  other,  as  com- 
panions who  have  been  dearly  united,  and  who, 
through  Infinite  love  and  mercy,  will  be  joined 
again  in  the  mansions  of  eternal  peace ;  where 
we  shall  for  ever  rejoice  together,  in  praising, 
adoring,  and  serving  our  God  and  Redeemer, 
with  the  highest  gratitude  and  love,  of  which 
our  enlarged  minds  shall  then  be  made  capable. 

In  the  course  of  the  long  period  of  our  union, 
we  have  had  our  trials  and  afflictions. — But  we 
have  been  favoured  too,  with  many  great  and 
distinguished  blessings.  Even  the  afflictions, 
and  what  appeared  to  be  adverse  occurrences, 
were  designed  for  our  final  wellbeing.  I  hope 
the  gracious  intention  of  these  dispensations  will 
be  fully  answered  by  our  being  safely  landed, 
through  the  atonement  and  intercession  of  our 
blessed  Redeemer,  on  those  happy  shores,  where 
no  clouds  nor  storms  are  ever  known;  and  where, 
after  millions  of  ages  of  happiness  shall  have 
passed  away,  we  shall  only  seem  to  have  begun 
our  felicity,  a  felicity  that  will  last  for  ever. 

We  know  not,  my  dear  Hannah,  which  of  us 
shall  be  first  removed  from  this  earthly  scene ; 


165 

which  of  us  shall  have  to  lament  the  loss  of  a 
partner  so  long  known  and  beloved.  But  which- 
ever of  us  may  be  the  surviver,  let  not  that  sur- 
viver  mourn  as  one  without  hope,  but  endeavour 
to  perform  the  remaining  duties  required ;  to  be 
humbly  resigned  to  the  will  of  Heaven;  and  to 
wait  with  patience  and  hope,  for  a  blessed  and 
happy  reunion." 

1 82 1 .  "  This  day,  my  beloved  Hannah,  is  the 
fifty-fourth  anniversary  of  our  marriage. — At 
this  late  period  of  our  lives,  we  can  not,  in  the 
course  of  nature,  look  for  a  much  longer  contin- 
uance together.  Our  remaining  time  here  must 
now  be  short.  Perhaps  we  may  not  be  permit- 
ted to  see  an  other  anniversary  of  our  union.  If 
this  should  be  the  case,  or  whenever  we  may  be 
removed  from  this  transient  scene,  may  the  God 
of  love  and  mercy  be  graciously  pleased,  through 
the  blessed  Redeemer,  to  give  us  an  inheritance 
in  his  holy  and  happy  kingdom;  there  to  be  re- 
united in  our  spirits,  and  joyfully  employed  in 
thanksgivings  and  praises,  and  the  most  devout 
and  zealous  services,  to  our  heavenly  Father  and 
Redeemer,  for  endless  ages ! 

Whichever  of  us  may  be  the  surviver,  I  hope 
that  Divine  Goodness  and  Mercy  will  be  near 
to  support  that  surviver  under  so  deeply  trying 
an  event,  and  to  produce  a  humble,  reverent 


166 

submission  to  the  will  of  Heaven. — May  we  both, 
my  dear  Hannah,  now  when  the  curtains  of  the 
night  are  soon,  or  before  long,  to  be  drawn  around 
us,  be  more  and  more  diligent  to  make  our  call- 
ing and  election  sure;  to  be  prepared  for  striking 
our  tents,  and  removing  to  a  better  world; 
where,  sinful  and  unworthy  as  I  am,  I  hope, 
through  the  infinite  mercy  of  God  in  Jesus 
Christ,  to  be  admitted:  and  where,  if  admitted, 
we  shall  be  finally  delivered  from  all  sickness 
and  sorrow,  from  all  sin,  temptation,  and  imper- 
fection." 

As  a  further  proof  of  Mr.  Murray's  piety  and 
humility,  I  present  to  the  reader  the  following 
memorandums ;  all  of  which,  except  the  two  first, 
were  found  in  his  desk  after  his  decease.  They 
are  mere  fragments ;  written  on  detached  slips 
of  paper,  some  of  them  only  with  a  pencil :  but 
fragments  of  such  a  mind  as  his,  should  be  gath- 
ered up,  when  it  can  be  done  with  delicacy 
and  propriety,  and  without  violating  any  known 
or  expressed  wish  of  the  writer.  They,  as  well 
as  the  preceding  extracts  from  the  little  addresses 
to  his  wife,  are  so  accordant  with  the  tenour  of 
his  memoirs,  that  I  can  not  doubt  but  that,  if  he 
were  living,  he  would  give  leave  for  their  inser- 
tion. Indeed,  I  think  it  is  not  improbable  that 
some  of  the  memorandums  were  designed  as  hints 
or  materials  for  a  continuation  of  the  memoirs ; 


167 

the  original  notices  with  which  he  furnished  me, 
being  written  in  a  similar  manner. 

"  It  may  be  truly  asserted,  that  a  tenth  part 
of  the  solicitude  which  we  have,  to  secure  a  pre- 
carious happiness,  for  a  few  years  upon  earth, 
would  secure  a  perfect  felicity,  for  endless  ages, 
in  heaven. — How  greatly  will  this  consideration 
increase  our  anguish  at  last,  if  we  should  neglect 
in  time,  to  procure,  at  so  easy  a  sacrifice,  the 
blessedness  of  a  future  state  ! — The  summer  of 
1811." 

"  Be  watchful.     Be  humble.     Be  grateful."* 

"  It  is  a  comfort  to  me  to  feel  that  the  longer 
I  live,  the  greater  is  my  regard  for  my  friends 
and  acquaintance,  and  my  desire  that  we  may 
all  meet  in  a  better  world  ;  where  we  shall,  if  we 
attain  it,  be  for  ever  grateful,  beyond  expression, 
to  our  Divine  Benefactor." 

"  But  a  little  time  remains  for  me,  (and  how 
little  that  may  be  I  know  not,)  to  prepare  to 
meet  the  God  of  my  life,  and  to  give  in  to  Him 
an  account  of  my  actions." 

"  I  am  this  day  seventy-two  years  of  age. 
How  many  preservations  and  mercies  have  I  ex- 

*  These  words  were  addressed  to  his  wife  :  but  they  were 
also  the  daily  rule  of  his  own  life  ;,  and  they  form  a  striking 
summary  of  Christian  duty. 


168 

perienced  in  this  long  course  of  time !  How 
poorly  I  have  improved  the  goodness  and  for- 
bearance of  God  to  me  !  What  has  been  the  de- 
sign of  this  long  continuance  of  life,  and  of  the 
blessings  with  which  my  cup  has  run  over? 
Plainly,  that  I  might  improve  these  mercies,  by 
gratitude,  love,  and  obedience,  to  my  great  Ben- 
efactor ;  and  be  prepared  to  enter  into  his  holy 
and  happy  kingdom,  there  to  glorify  and  serve 
him  for  ever.  May  this  be  my  joyful  experience, 
through  the  mercy  of  God,  in  Jesus  Christ,  and 
for  his  sake  !  I  know,  by  long  and  repeated 
proofs  in  myself,  and  by  the  testimony  of  the 
Holy  Scriptures,  that  of  myself  I  can  do  nothing 
to  effect  my  salvation  :  my  powers  are  all  inade- 
quate to  this  great  end.  It  is  by  the  Grace  of 
God  alone,  that  the  work  can  be  effected.  May 
I  ever  look  to  that,  and  pray  for  it,  and  finally 
experience  it  to  work  in  me  a  most  comfortable 
and  steadfast  hope,  that  I  shall  be  made  one  ol 
those  holy  and  happy  beings,  who  shall  glorify, 
adore,  praise,  and  serve  Him,  for  evermore,  with 
the  highest  degree  of  love  and  gratitude,  that 
their  enlarged  spirits  shall  then  be  made  capable 
of  exerting." 

"Preserve  me  from  all  vain  self  complacencies; 
from  seeking  the  applauses  of  men ;  and  from 
all  solicitude  about  what  they  may  think  or  say 
of  me.  May  I  be  made  truly  humble,  and  of  a 


169 

meek  and  quiet  spirit !  If  I  have  done  any  good 
to  my  fellow-creatures,  or,  in  any  degree,  pro- 
moted the  will  of  my  heavenly  Father,  may  I 
unfeignedly  give  him  all  the  glory;  attributing 
nothing  to  myself,  and  taking  comfort  only  from 
the  reflection,  that  an  employment  in  his  service, 
affords  an  evidence  that  his  mercy  is  towards  me, 
that  I  am  not  forsaken  by  Him,  and  that  he  is 
training  me  for  an  inhabitant  of  his  blessed  king- 
dom, there  to  glorify  and  serve  my  God  and  Re- 
deemer for  ever." 

From  the  conclusion  of  Mr.  Murray's  memoirs, 
till  his  decease,  his  life  proceeded  in  a  pretty  uni- 
form tenour;  little  diversified  by  incident,  or  by 
any  change  of  circumstance,  except  the  vicissi- 
tude from  sickness  to  a  state  of  comparative 
health.  The  power  of  employing  his  time  to 
good  and  useful  purposes,  was,  through  a  pe- 
culiarly benign  providence,  continued  to  the 
latest  period  of  his  life.  Religious  reading  and 
meditation,  which,  as  he  advanced  in  years,  be- 
came increasingly  acceptable  to  him;  the  ar- 
rangement of  his  secular  affairs  both  with  respect 
to  his  continuance  in,  or  removal  from,  this  sphere 
of  action ;  attention  to  his  literary  works  ;  social 
intercourse ;  acts  of  beneficence  and  charity ; 
were  employments  which  rendered  the  long 
evening  of  his  days  useful  and  pleasant. 

24 


170 

In  the  full  enjoyment  of  life,  and  in  the  dis- 
charge of  all  its  varied  and  important  duties,  he 
attained  his  eighty-first  year:  which,  considering 
his  long  confinement,  and  his  general  debility, 
was  a  remarkable  circumstance ;  a  kind  of  jubilee 
in  his  existence.  On  his  birthday,  he  appeared 
so  well,  and  cheerful,  and  so  bright  in  his  mental 
faculties,  that  the  prospect  of  losing  him  seemed 
as  remote  as  on  any  similar  occasion,  during 
many  preceding  years.  "I  am  favoured,"  he 
piously  observed,  "  with  a  comfortable  state  of 
health,  for  my  time  of  life ;  a  state  for  which  I 
ought,  and  I  desire,  to  be  humbly  and  deeply 
thankful  to  the  gracious  Giver  of  all  good." — 
But  the  year  which  he  had  so  auspiciously  begun, 
he  was  not  allowed  to  complete.  A  happier 
birthday  than  any  which  we  had  anticipated,  I, 
doubt  riot,  awaited  him. 

Persons  who  were  strangers  to  him,  might 
suppose  from  his  age  and  long  confinement,  that, 
at  this  period,  he  must  have  been  fairly  worn 
out,  both  in  body  and  mind.  But  this  was  by 
no  means  the  case.  His  health,  towards  the  close 
of  life,  seemed  rather  to  improve.  In  the  autumn 
and  winter  immediately  preceding  his  decease, 
he  appeared  unusually  free  from  indisposition. 
His  sight  and  hearing  were  good.  With  spec- 
tacles he  could  read  the  finest  print.  His  mem- 
ory, even  for  recent  events,  was  remarkably 


171 

retentive.  He  appeared  as  sensible,  well-in- 
formed, and  cheerful,  as  at  any  former  period 
during  my  acquaintance  with  him.  His  vigour 
of  mind  was  unimpaired :  he  was,  indeed,  in- 
capable of  long-continued  attention  to  any  sub- 
ject; but  this  seemed  rather  the  effect  of  bodily 
than  mental  decay.  His  hair  had  become  entirely 
white :  his  countenance  bespoke  age  and  feeble- 
ness ;  but  still  retained  an  expression  of  mingled 
intelligence  and  sweetness. 

In  October,  1825, 1  went  from  home.  Having 
previously  informed  him  of  my  intention,  he  ex- 
pressed, as  he  had  often  done  before,  an  earnest 
desire  that  I  might  not  be  absent  at  the  time  of 
his  decease.  As  his  health  then  seemed  better 
than  usual,  the  expression  of  this  sentiment  ap- 
peared to  me  less  adapted  to  the  occasion,  than 
his  sentiments  usually  were;  and  tended,  unne- 
cessarily I  thought,  to  cast  a  gloom  and  depres- 
sion over  my  mind.  But  the  event  fully  justified 
him.  I  had  not  been  returned  many  weeks, 
before  1  visited  him  on  his  death-bed,  and  fol- 
lowed his  remains  to  the  grave.  That  his  desire 
was  accomplished ;  and  that  I  saw  him  in  his 
last  hours,  and  received  from  him  some  token 
of  kind  remembrance  and  parting  friendship; 
are  circumstances  which  afford  my  mind  inex- 
pressible satisfaction. 


172 

i  was  at  his  house,  a  very  short  time  before  his 
last  illness.  When  I  was  about  taking  leave  of 
him,  he  said  to  me :  "  REMEMBER  the  following 
lines."  He  pronounced  the  word  "  Remember," 
and  repeated  the  lines,  with  an  emphasis,  which 
now  assumes  something  of  prophetic  energy. 

"  Absent  or  dead,  still  let  a  friend  be  dear  : 
A  sigh  the  absent  claims  ;  the  dead  a  tear." 

On  the  tenth  of  January,  1826,  Mr.  Murray 
being  at  dinner,  was  seized  with  a  slight  para- 
lytic affection  in  his  left  hand  ;  it  was,  however, 
of  short  duration,  and  was  attended  with  no 
visible  ill  effect.  On  Monday  morning,  the 
thirteenth  of  February,  he  had  a  return  of 
numbness,  in  the  same  hand  ;  but  it  soon  yielded 
to  friction,  and  wholly  disappeared.  Soon  after 
he  conversed  very  cheerfully,  and  even  pleas- 
antly. During  the  day,  he  was  a  good  deal 
engaged,  and  much  interested,  in  having  the 
newspaper  read  to  him,  containing  the  debates 
on  the  commercial  embarrassments  of  the  coun- 
try. In  the  afternoon  of  that  day,  the  last  time 
of  his  taking  a  pen  in  his  hand,  I  received  from 
him  a  short  note,  as  kind,  as  usual,  and  as  well 
written  and  composed.  That  the  last  words 
which  he  ever  wrote,  were  addressed  to  me,  is  a 
melancholy  recollection  ;  but  it  is  inexpressibly 
soothing  and  consolatory  to  my  mind. 


173 

In  the  evening,  he  was  seized  with  acute  pain 
in  his  groin,  accompanied  with  violent  sickness. 
Medical  assistance  was  procured:  but  the  means 
used  to  afford  relief  proved  ineffectual.  During 
the  night  he  had  an  alarming  fainting  fit,  of  long 
continuance.  On  recovering,  he  spoke  most 
tenderly  to  his  wife,  and  urged  her  to  go  to  bed. 

I  saw  him  on  the  following  morning.  He 
then  seemed  rather  better;  but  said  the  pain  was 
not  removed.  When  I  was  going  away,  he  took 
leave  of  me  with  unusual  solemnity,  saying, 
very  slowly,  and  with  a  most  affecting  emphasis  : 
"  Farewell,  rny  dear  friend  !"  With  some  diffi- 
culty, he  extended  his  hand  under  the  bed 
clothes,  and  uncovered  it,  in  order  that  he  might, 
at  parting,  shake  hands  with  me. 

In  the  evening,  he  was  conveyed,  in  his  rolling 
chair,  to  a  bed  prepared  for  him  in  his  sitting 
room.  Some  time  after,  the  aperient  medicines 
took  effect ;  and  this  circumstance,  together  with 
his  disposition  to  sleep,  appeared  very  favourable, 
and  encouraged  a  hope  of  his  speedy  recovery. 
But  he  spent  a  restless  night ,  and  in  the  morning 
he  was  in  a  state  of  extreme  exhaustion.  When 
his  wife  went  to  his  bed  side,  he  revived  a  little ; 
spoke  sweetly  to  her ;  and  seeing  her  soon  after- 
wards, at  a  little  distance  in  the  room,  he  looked 
at  her  very  tenderly,  and  said,  "  That  dear  one!" 
He  slumbered  most  of  the  morning,  except  when 


174 

roused  to  take  refreshment.  I  visited  him  about 
noon.  Seeing  me  at  his  b3d  side,  and  probably 
being  unwilling,  though  in  a  state  of  great  weak- 
ness, not  to  notice  me,  he  looked  at  me  very  kind- 
ly, and  repeated  my  name  three  times,  in  a  low 
but  affectionate  tone  of  voice;  and  again  stretch- 
ed forth  his  hand  under  the  bed  clothes,  towards 
me.  That  hand,  which  had  so  kindly  welcomed 
me,  when  first  I  entered  the  room,  at  the  com- 
mencement of  our  acquaintance,  was  now  ex- 
tended towards  me  for  the  last  time  ;  not  to  wel- 
come, but  gently  to  dismiss  me.  I  heard  the 
sound  of  his  voice  no  more ;  nor  did  I  ever  again 
behold  his  living  countenance. 

In  the  afternoon,  his  wife  sent  me  word  he 
was  better;  and  I  flattered  myself  with  the  hope 
that  he  would  speedily  recover,  as  I  had  seen 
him  do  on  many  previous  occasions.  Great  were 
my  surprise  and  disappointment  when  I  received, 
on  the  following  morning,  the  melancholy  in- 
telligence that  he  was  much  worse.  1  hastened 
to  his  house ;  but ,  before  I  arrived,  "  his  dear 
spirit,"  to  use  his  wife's  expression,  "  had  taken 
its  flight."  Thus  terminated  an  uninterrupted 
intercourse  of  many  years'  standing,  with  a  most 
excellent  man,  and  a  kind  friend.  The  loss  to 
me  is  irreparable.  In  this  world  of  sin  and  error, 
a  true  friend  is  rarely  to  be  met  with :  "  an  old 
friend,"  as  Dr.  Johnson  observes,  "  can  never  be 
found." 


175 


During  his  short  illness,  my  much  esteemed 
friend  expressed  his  gratitude  for  the  care  that 
was  taken  of  him,  and  for  all  the  kind  attention 
which  he  received.  He  also  adverted  to  the 
pleasant  conversation  which  he  had,  on  the 
morning  of  his  seizure ;  and  remarked,  "  What 
poor,  frail  creatures  we  are ;  and  how  little  we 
know  what  is  to  happen  to  us !" 

On  Wednesday  afternoon  he  seemed  refreshed 
by  sleep;  noticed  what  was  passing  in  the  room ; 
and  took  sustenance  freely.  But  the  night  was 
again  restless.  His  pulse  was  quick,  and  his 
tongue  parched.  Though  he  was  evidently  suf- 
fering from  pain,  he  made  very  little  complaint : 
when  inquired  of,  he  said  the  pain  was  still 
fixed  in  the  same  place.  A  few  times  he  cried 

out:  "  Oh  my ;"  but  checked  himself  before 

the  expression  was  completed. 

In  the  morning,  his  servant  being  at  his  bed 
side,  and  tenderly  sympathizing  with  him,  told 
him  she  should  be  very  glad,  if  she  could  afford 
him  any  relief  from  his  suffering.  He  expressed 
his  sense  of  her  kindness ;  but  meekly  added : 
"  It  is  MY  portion." 

About  seven  in  the  morning,  a  change  for  the 
worse  evidently  took  place.  Soon  after  that 
time,  his  wife  went  to  his  bed  side;  he  noticed 
her;  and  spoke  to  her  in  the  most  tenderly, 
affectionate  manner.  A  deathlike  sickness  seem- 


176 

ed  to  be  coming  over  him.  He  cried  out :  "  Oh 
my  groin! — What  a  pain!"  Being  asked  on 
which  side  the  pain  was,  he  said:  "  On  the  right." 
His  wife  warmed  a  cloth,  and  put  it  to  the  part. 
He  turned  on  his  back  and  lay  stretched  at 
his  length:  his  arms  were  extended,  close  to 
his  body;  the  thumb  of  each  hand  was  gently 
pressed  upon  the  forefinger,  seeming  to  indicate 
suppressed  agony :  and  in  that  attitude  he  con- 
tinued during  the  short  remainder  of  his  mor- 
tal existence.  For  a  few  moments,  anguish  was 
depicted  on  his  countenance :  but  it  soon  gave 
place  to  fixed  serenity.  His  eyes  were  lifted  up ; 
no  doubt,  in  fervent  supplication  to  the  God  of 
mercy.  His  lips  moved,  though  no  sound  of 
his  voice  could  be  heard.  He  lay  without  any 
perceptible  motion,  until  his  eyes  gently  closed 
of  themselves.  About  half-past  eight  in  the 
morning,  he  expired  in  peace ;  without  a  strug- 
gle, or  even  a  sigh  or  a  groan. 

Thus  died,  on  Thursday  morning,  the  six- 
teenth of  February,  1&26,  the  much  loved  and 
much  lamented  Lindley  Murray;  in  the  eighty- 
first  year  of  his  age,  and  in  the  full  possession  of 
all  his  mental  faculties.  His  last  illness  was  of 
short  duration,  scarcely  exceeding  two  days:  but 
his  life,  during  a  long  course  of  years,  was  a  con- 
stant preparation  for  the  awful  change  which  has 
now  taken  place ;  so  that  death  could  scarcely  at 


177 

any  time  have  come  upon  him  unawares,  or 
found  him  in  a  state,  unsuited  for  removal  to  a 
world  of  glory. 

The  immediate  cause  of  his  dissolution  can 
not  be  ascertained ;  nor  is  it  material  now.  His 
allotted  work  was  finished :  his  Lord  called  him 
home  to  receive  his  appointed  wages.  Nor  can 
it  be  known,  whether  at  any  time  of  his  short 
illness,  he  was  sensible  that  the  close  of  his 
earthly  existence  was  at  hand.  The  alternation 
of  pain  and  extreme  exhaustion  in  which  the 
last  days  of  his  life  were  spent,  allowed  him  lit- 
tle opportunity  to  say  any  thing,  but  what  was 
absolutely  necessary  respecting  the  illness  of  his 
body.  In  his  final  hour,  if  not  before,  it  is  prob- 
able, the  solemn  truth  was  conveyed  to  his 
mind;  and  his  soul  was  lifted  up  in  fervent 
prayer,  to  the  Father  of  spirits,  and  the  God  of 
mercy  and  consolation.  The  thoughts,  the  feel- 
ings, of  the  mind,  especially  of  such  a  mind  as 
his,  when  earth  and  all  connected  with  it,  recede 
from  the  view,  and  the  eternal  world  appears, 
can  never  be  spoken,  or  fully  made  known,  on 
this  side  the  grave. 

The  peculiarly  benign  providence  which  had 
followed  him  through  life,  forsook  him  not  in 
the  end.  His  removal,  though  a  loss  to  the 
world  at  large,  and  a  subject  of  much  regret 
to  his  friends,  was,  no  doubt,  a  dispensation  of 
25 


178 

mercy.  He  was  taken  away  from  the  evil  to 
come.  He  was  translated  to  glory,  in  the 
lengthened  evening  of  his  day ;  but  in  the  midst 
of  usefulness  and  honour,  of  comfort  and  happi- 
ness. The  powers  of  his  mind  were  not  suf- 
fered to  waste  away,  nor  to  decline  into  imbe- 
cility. The  loveliness  of  his  character  was  not 
sullied,  nor  the  efficacy  of  his  example  impaired, 
by  any  infirmity  of  rnind  or  of  body.  His  old  age, 
to  the  very  latest  period  of  it,  was  an  object, 
not  of  commiseration,  but  of  love,  esteem,  and 
reverence. 

His  death  was  easy,  both  as  regards  the  body 
and  the  soul.  The  bodily  suffering  which  pre- 
ceded it,  though  severe,  was  not  protracted; 
nor  did  it,  at  any  moment,  obscure  his  under- 
standing, or  disturb  the  tranquillity  of  his  mind. 
His  passage  through  the  valley  of  the  shadow 
of  death,  was  short  and  free  from  terror.  He 
seemed  to  have  no  internal  conflict.  All  within 
appeared  calm  and  tranquil.  Devotedness  to 
God,  and  love  to  man,  were  almost  the  latest 
expressions  of  his  departing  spirit. 

His  peaceful  and  happy  death  formed  a  natural 
and  beautiful  close  of  his  holy  and  virtuous  life. 
In  the  extremity  of  nature,  the  spirit  of  the  Lord 
sustained  him.  The  arm  of  the  Lord,  though 
invisible,  was  underneath  him.  The  Lord  was 
round  about  him,  and  made  all  his  bed  in  his 


179 


sickness.  Like  a  confiding  child,  he  rested  on 
the  bosom  of  his  heavenly  Parent.  He  died  in 
the  Lord;  he  fell  asleep  in  the  Lord  Jesus. 
And  he  verified  the  Scripture  declaration :  "  Be- 
hold the  upright  man;  and  mark  the  perfect 
man:  for  the  end  of  that  man  is  peace."  No 
doubt,  the  Lord  Jesus,  in  whom  he  had  trusted, 
and  whom  he  had  served,  from  his  youth,  re- 
ceived his  spirit.  And  he  has  now,  I  trust,  be- 
gun that  celestial  song,  and  entered  upon  that 
elevated  sphere  of  action,  of  which,  while  on 
earth,  he  had  joyful  and  devout  anticipation. 

"  The  chamber  where  the  good  man  meets  his  fate, 

Is  privileg'd  above  the  common  walk 

Of  virtuous  life,  quite  on  the  verge  of  heav'n. 

His  God  supports  him  in  his  final  hour  : 

His  final  hour  brings  glory  to  his  God."  YOUNG, 

Mr.  Murray,  in  one  of  his  illnesses,  expressed 
an  earnest  hope  that,  at  the  close  of  life,  whenever 
it  might  take  place,  he  should  be  mercifully  sup- 
ported :  so  that  he  might  not  disgrace  religion  by 
any  unbecoming  words  or  behaviour;  but  might 
even,  if  enabled  by  divine  grace,  glorify  God  in 
his  dying  hours,  and  edify  his  fellow-creatures. 
His  wish  was,  in  a  good  degree,  accomplished. 
He  glorified  God,  I  doubt  not,  by  the  secret  as- 
pirations of  his  heart;  as  I  am  sure  he  did  by  his 
meek,  unrepining  endurance  of  pain,  and  weak- 


180 


ness,  and  his  kind,  considerate  attention  to  all 
around  him.  Ou  the  minds  of  the  survivers,  his 
affectionate  regard  for  others  in  the  midst  of  his 
own  sufferings,  his  quiet  resignation,  his  patient 
sickness,  and  his  tranquil  death,  are  calculated 
to  produce  deep  and  salutary  impressions. 

His  death,  in  some  of  its  circumstances,  was 
awfully  affecting :  it  was,  in  a  manner,  sudden  ; 
and  it  was,  to  his  friends  at  least,  wholly  unex- 
pected. In  this  respect,  also,  it  is  instructive; 
and,  as  he  wished,  edifying  to  the  survivers.  It 
warns  them  of  the  uncertainty  of  life ;  it  admon- 
ishes them  to  prepare,  and  to  live  prepared,  to 
meet  their  Creator  and  their  Judge ;  and  it  urges 
them,  by  this  most  cogent  reason,  not  to  delay 
the  preparation,  seeing  they  know  neither  the 
day,  nor  the  hour,  when  they  will  be  summoned 
to  the  awful  tribunal. 

"  Thus  runs  Death's  dread  commission;  '  Strike,  but  so 

As  most  alarms  the  living  by  the  dead.' 

Is  death  uncertain  ?  therefore  be  thou  fix'd ; 

Fix'd  as  a  centinel,  all  eye,  all  ear, 

AH  expectation  of  the  coming  foe. 

Rouse,  stand  in  arms,  nor  lean  against  thy  spear, 

Lest  slumber  steal  one  moment  o'er  thy  soul, 

And  fate  surprise  thee  nodding.  Watch,  be  strong : 

Thus  give  each  day  the  merit  and  renown, 

Of  dying  well ;  tho'  doom'd  but  once  to  die. 

Nor  let  life's  period  hidden  (as  from  most) 

Hide  too  from  thee  the  precious  use  of  life."      YOUNG. 


181 

Though  the  final  summons  to  the  eternal 
world,  vouchsafed  to  Mr.  Murray,  was  but  short, 
he  was,  through  infinite  mercy,  ready  to  depart. 
All  his  concerns,  respecting  both  worlds,  were 
settled  and  arranged.  He  was  at  peace  with  all 
men.  And  he  had,  I  doubt  not,  a  comfortable 
assurance,  as  in  all  former  illnesses,  that  his  sins 
were  pardoned,  and  his  transgressions  blotted 
out.  If  this  had  not  been  the  case,  how  dread- 
ful would  his  condition  have  been !  From  the 
commencement  of  his  short  illness  till  its  close,  he 
was  incapable  of  paying  attention  to  any  worldly 
affairs ;  far  less  to  the  great  work  of  salvation. 
The  thought  of  unsettled  business,  or  of  unre- 
pented  sins,  would,  no  doubt,  in  his  weak  state, 
have  overpowered  his  reason,  or  plunged  him 
into  the  agonies  of  despair.  In  this  point  of  view 
also,  his  death  is  edifying ;  not  only  to  his  sur- 
viving friends,  but  to  all  who  may  read  or  hear 
the  account.  It  is  calculated  to  awaken  in  their 
minds,  an  earnest  desire  that  through  faith  in 
Christ,  and  through  divine  grace,  they  may  be 
enabled  to  live  the  life  of  the  righteous ;  and 
that  when  their  final  summons  is  sent  forth,  they 
may  be  found,  like  the  excellent  Lindley  Mur- 
ray, having  finished  their  allotted  work,  being  at 
peace  with  all  men,  and  having  a  humble  trust 
that  the  Shepherd  of  Israel,  will,  with  his  rod 
and  staff,  conduct  them  safely  through  the 


182 

valley  of  the  shadow  of  death,  into  the  land  of 
promise. 

Mr.  Murray's  will,  signed  Feb.  1,  1821,  was 
written  and  composed  by  himself.  It  affords  a 
striking  proof  of  the  vigour  of  his  mind  in  ad- 
vanced age,  his  accuracy  in  transacting  busi- 
ness, and  his  solicitous  desire  to  do  as  much  and 
as  extensive  good,  both  living  and  dying,  as  his 
circumstances  would  allow.  To  make  a  suitable 
provision  for  his  wife,  and  to  afford  her  every 
comfortable  accommodation,  seems  to  be  the  pri- 
mary object  of  his  testamentary  attention.  He 
mentions  in  his  will  a  large  number  of  relatives 
and  friends ;  to  each  of  whom  he  bequeaths 
a  legacy,  either  in  money,  or  books,  or  both : 
the  books  are  partly  to  be  taken  from  his  own 
library,  and  partly  to  be  purchased ;  and  he 
has,  with  particular  pains,  selected  and  appor- 
tioned them  in  such  a  manner,  as  he  thought 
would  be  most  acceptable  and  useful.  To  myself 
he  bequeaths,  besides  some  books,  his  papers  and 
letters  respecting  his  literary  concerns.  Several 
poor  persons  whom  he  occasionally  employed,  or 
assisted  by  his  alms,  are  also  mentioned  in  his 
will;  to  each  of  whom  he  bequeaths  the  sum  of 
two  guineas.  He  leaves  the  following  charitable 
bequests,  payable  after  the  death  of  his  wife : 
to  the  British  and  Foreign  Bible  Society,  two 
hundred  pounds  ;  to  the  African  Institution,  the 


183 

same  sum ;  and  to  each  of  the  following  institu- 
tions, or  societies,  at  York,  twenty-five  pounds  j 
the  County  Hospital,  the  Dispensary,  the  Blue 
Coat  School  for  Boys,  the  Gray  Coat  School  for 
Girls,  the  Charitable  Society,  the  Benevolent  So- 
ciety, and  the  Lunatic  Asylum.     After  the  de- 
cease of  his   wife,  and  the  payment  of  all  his 
bequests,  the  residue  of  his  property  is  to  be 
transferred  to  New  York,  and  vested  in  trustees 
there,   so   as  to  form  a  permanent  fund ;    the 
yearly  income  or  produce  of  which  is  to  be  ap- 
propriated in  the  following  manner :  "  in  libera- 
ting black  people  who  may  be  held  in  slavery, 
assisting  them  when  freed,  and  giving  their  de- 
scendants or  the  descendants  of  other  black 
persons,  suitable  education ;  in  promoting  the 
civilization  and   instruction  of  the   Indians  of 
North  America;  in  the  purchase  and  distribu- 
tion  of  books  tending  to   promote    piety   and 
virtue,  and  the  truth  of  Christianity,  and  it  is 
his  wish  that  '  The  Power  of  Religion  on  the 
Mind,  in  Retirement,  Affliction,  and  at  the  Ap- 
proach of  Death,'  with  the  author's  latest  correc- 
tions and  improvements,  may  form  a  considera- 
ble part  of  those  books ;  and   in  assisting  and 
relieving  the  poor  of  any  description,  in   any 
manner  that  may  be  judged  proper,  especially 
those  who  are  sober,  industrious,  and  of  good 
character." 


184 

On  Wednesday  morning,  the  twenty-second 
of  February,  Mr.  Murray's  remains  were  inter- 
red in  the  burying  ground  of  the  Friends,  or 
Quakers,  in  the  city  of  York ;  amidst  a  large  as- 
semblage of  persons,  many  of  whom  had  come 
from  a  considerable  distance.  From  the  still- 
ness which  prevailed,  one  might  have  thought 
only  few  persons  were  present.  All  were  silent 
and  serious ;  many  deeply  affected. 

No  relative  was  present.  His  aged  and  be- 
reaved widow,  though  entirely  resigned  to  the 
Divine  will,  was,  from  affliction,  indisposition, 
and  long  confinement,  unable  to  attend.  All  his 
own  relations,  and  those  of  his  wife,  were  resi- 
dent in  America.  The  intelligence  of  his  death 
could  not  reach  them,  till  long  after  his  remains 
were  consigned  to  the  silent  grave.  A  large 
number  of  his  friends,  acquaintance,  and  other 
persons,  followed  his  corpse  to  the  place  of  in- 
terment ;  and  were  truly  mourners.  Few  have 
departed  this  life  more  beloved  and  lamented : 
the  graves  of  few  have  been  surrounded  by  so 
many  persons,  who,  if  they  had  been  allowed  to 
speak,  could  have  told  of  some  favour  or  benefit, 
some  good  advice  or  kind  attention,  which  they 
had  received  from  the  deceased  ;  or  could,  in 
some  way  or  other,  either  directly  or  indirectly, 
have  acknowledged  him  as  their  friend  and  ben- 
efactor. And  thousands  who  were  absent,  might. 


185 

if  their  voice  could  have  been  heard,  have  join- 
ed in  the  acknowledgment. 

His  life  and  death  were  blessed,  and  his  mem- 
ory is  blessed.  He  had  great  talents  imparted 
to  him,  and  high  'success  attended  him  in  the 
employment  of  them.  By  his  virtues  and  his 
kindness,  he  will  long  live  in  the  affectionate 
and  grateful  remembrance  of  his  friends  and  ac- 
quaintance. His  literary  works  and  his  good 
deeds  are  a  lasting  memorial  of  him.  His  name, 
wherever  the  English  language  is  spoken,  (and 
soon,  where  will  it  not  be  spoken?)  will  be 
known  and  revered.  The  little  tribute  to  his 
memory  which  I  now  present  to  the  world,  will, 
I  hope,  contribute  to  make  him  valued  and  re- 
membered, not  only  as  Lindley  Murray,  the 
Grammarian,  as  he  is  usually  designated ;  but, 
in  a  far  higher  character,  as  Lindley  Murray, 
the  benevolent  and  pious ;  the  friend  of  man, 
and  the  faithful,  dedicated  servant  of  the  Lord 
God  Omnipotent. 


26 


186 
CHAPTER  II. 

CHARACTER    OF    THE    AUTHOR. 

THE  character  of  the  author  is  depicted  in  hig 
writings,  particularly  in  his  Memoirs.  And  it 
is  deeply  engraven  on  the  memories  of  many, 
who  were  personally  acquainted  with  him ;  or 
who  have  derived  benefit  from  his  literary  la- 
bours. But  it  was  so  excellent,  and  in  many  re- 
spects, so  imitable,  that,  as  editor  of  his  Memoirs, 
I  cannot  feel  excused  from  attempting  a  de- 
lineation; which  I  shall  intersperse  with  various 
illustrative  anecdotes.  It  will  thus  assume  rather 
an  historical  form ;  but,  I  trust,  it  will  not,  on 
that  account,  be  the  less  interesting. 

Mr.  Murray  seems  to  have  been  raised  up  by 
Providence,  for  peculiar  purposes  to  do  good  in 
the  world,  and  to  exhibit  a  beautiful  specimen 
of  a  Christian  character.  His  endowments,  both 
moral  and  intellectual,  were  of  a  superior  order. 
Few  men  have  left  behind  them  a  higher  char- 
acter for  wisdom,  piety,  and  benevolence. 

Good  sense  and  sound  judgment  were  the 
predominating  qualities  of  his  mind.  He  took 
a  large,  comprehensive,  and  accurate  view  of  the 
objects  presented  to  his  mental  eye ;  and  he  dis- 
cerned, clearly  and  readily,  which  of  those  ob- 


187 

jects  were  to  be  preferred  and  pursued.  His 
apprehension  was  quick,  his  memory  retentive, 
and  his  taste  delicate  and  refined.  There  did 
not  appear  in  any  of  the  faculties  of  his  mind, 
either  exuberance  or  deficiency.  Their  gener- 
al harmony,  as  well  as  strength,  constituted  the 
distinguishing  excellence  of  his  intellectual  char- 
acter. 

To  the  appellation  of  a  man  of  genius,  he  has 
an  undoubted  claim ;  if  true  genius  signifies,  ac- 
cording to  the  definition  of  a  celebrated  author, 
"  a  mind  of  large,  general  powers,  accidentally," 
or  rather  providentially,  "  determined  to  some 
particular  direction." — The  strength  of  his  in- 
tellect, and  the  habit  of  close,  vigorous  appli- 
cation which  he  acquired  early  in  life,  enabled 
him,  at  will,  to  collect  his  thoughts,  and  to  fix 
them  wholly,  and  for  a  sufficient  length  of  time, 
on  any  subject  under  his  consideration.  Hence, 
whatever  he  did,  was  well  done,  and  with  com. 
parative  ease.  And  hence  too,  he  would  have 
excelled  in  every  pursuit  in  which  he  had  en- 
gaged, or  on  whatever  subject  to  which  he  had 
turned  his  attention.  His  grammatical  works 
have  obtained  so  much  celebrity,  and  they  ex- 
hibit so  high  a  degree  of  excellence,  that  it  might 
not  unreasonably  be  supposed,  grammar  was  the 
principal  study  of  his  life;  but  it  did  not  partic- 
ularly engage  his  attention,  until  a  short  time 


188 

previous  to  the  publication  of  his  first  work  on 
that  subject 

Before  he  began  any  literary  work,  or  engaged 
in  any  undertaking,  he  considered  what  was  use- 
ful, practicable,  and  excellent.  His  imagination 
did  not  bewilder  him  with  a  diversity  of  plans 
and  views.  A  few  obvious  and  judicious  means 
of  accomplishing  the  end  proposed,  immediately 
presented  themselves  to  his  mind.  These  he 
considered  with  attention ;  selected  from  them 
what  he  thought  best ;  and  then  proceeded  to 
action,  without  any  agitating  hope  of  success,  or 
fear  of  failure.  He  pursued  a  straight  forward 
path ;  not  unnecessarily  retracing  his  steps,  nor 
wasting  his  powers  in  idle  wanderings,  or  useless 
cogitations.  He  formed  a  grand  outline  of  what 
he  proposed,  from  which  he  seldom  deviated : 
then  he  filled  up  all  the  parts  successively ;  over- 
coming  the  difficulties  as  they  occurred,  and,  on 
no  account,  suffering  them  to  accumulate.  He 
never  undertook  any  thing  to  which  he  was  not 
more  than  equal ;  and  he  seldom  relinquished 
any  thing  which  he  had  undertaken. 

He  composed,  and  wrote,  with  quickness  and 
accuracy.  His  Grammar,  as  it  appeared  in  the 
first  edition,  was  completed  in  rather  less  than  a 
year.  It  was  begun  in  the  spring  of  1794,  and 
it  was  published  in  the  spring  of  1795 ;  though 
he  had  an  intervening  illness,  which,  for  several 


189 

weeks,  stopped  the  progress  of  the  work.  After- 
wards, indeed,  he  bestowed  much  attention,  and 
a  considerable  portion  of  time,  in  improving  and 
enlarging  the  work  for  a  second,  and  many  sub- 
sequent editions.  The  Exercises  and  Key  were 
also  composed  in  about  a  year:  and  none  of  his 
succeeding  publications  engrossed,  in  the  first 
instance,  a  larger  portion  of  time. 

His  handwriting  was  uncommonly  and  uni- 
formly neat.  "  Indeed,"  as  was  once  justly  ob- 
served of  him,  "  he  was  neat  and  accurate  in 
every  thing  he  did."  I  present  my  readers  with 
a  fac  simile  of  a  few  lines  written  by  him  on  his 
last  birthday,  June  7, 1825. — In  1823,  he  revised 
and  wrote  a  fair  copy  of  his  Memoirs.  This 
manuscript,  from  which  they  are  printed,  is,  as 
well  as  his  will,  a  beautiful  specimen  of  neat  and 
correct  handwriting,  at  a  very  advanced  period 
of  life.  It  is  throughout  perfectly  legible:  it 
has  no  blots,  and  but  few  erasures  or  interlinea- 
tions. 

Mr.  Murray's  sentiments  were  elevated  and 
refined ;  his  ideas  and  opinions  just  and  well 
founded ;  and  always  expressed  in  delicate  and 
appropriate  language.  They  often  attracted  at* 
tention  by  their  novelty :  accompanied  with  a 
conviction  of  their  propriety,  in  the  minds  of 
those  to  whom  they  were  communicated;  to- 
gether with  some  degree  of  surprise  that  they 


190 

had  not  previously  occurred,  or  at  least  not  with 
so  strong  an  evidence  of  their  justness.  Both  in 
writing  and  speaking,  his  manner  of  expression 
was  simple  and  pleasing,  but  correct  and  accu- 
rate, clear  and  concise :  no  one  could  be  at  a  loss 
to  understand  his  meaning,  or  to  apprehend  its 
force.  He  had  a  happy  choice  of  words,  and  a 
clear  arrangement  of  his  thoughts ;  avoiding  all 
useless  repetition,  or  awkward,  unnecessary  ex- 
planation, and  all  contradiction  or  inconsistency. 
The  current  of  his  expressions  and  thoughts  was 
easy  and  natural,  smooth  and  regular. 

The  powers  of  his  mind  were  improved  and 
enlarged,  not  only  by  study,  reading,  and  re- 
flection, but  also  by  observation,  and  by  exten- 
sive intercouse  with  mankind.  His  early  intro- 
duction to  business,  and  the  diversity  of  employ- 
ment in  which  he  was  subsequently  engaged, 
gave  him  an  insight  into  human  affairs;  and 
contributed,  no  doubt,  very  essentially,  to  im- 
prove and  exercise  his  judgment,  arid  to  store 
his  memory  with  various  and  useful  information. 
His  observations  on  what  he  saw  in  the  world, 
and  his  reflections  on  what  passed  in  his  own 
mind,  gave  him  an  accurate  knowledge  of  hu- 
man nature. 

In  his  Memoirs,  he  seems  to  undervalue  his 
acquirements,  particularly  his  classical  and  lite- 
rary attainments.  He  had  a  considerable  ac- 


191 

quaintance  with  the  Latin  and  French  languages, 
and  some  knowledge  of  Greek.  He  was  an  ex- 
cellent arithmetician  and  accountant.  With  gen- 
eral literature,  including  history  and  geography, 
he  was  well  acquainted.  He  used  to  say,  though 
not  designing  to  disparage  what  is  called  learn- 
ing, that  if  he  had  been  intimately  acquainted 
with  ancient  languages,  he  might,  perhaps,  by 
introducing  much  curious  and  recondite  matter, 
into  his  grammatical  and  other  works,  have  ren- 
dered them  less  useful  and  acceptable.  The  gen- 
eral scholar,  and  the  man  of  business,  do  not  re- 
quire to  know  the  remote  etymologies  of  words, 
but  their  present  meaning,  and  their  right  appli- 
cation and  arrangement.  Mr.  Murray  seemed  to 
have  acquired  all  the  general  knowledge  which 
is  practically  useful.  But  his  knowledge,  though 
general,  was  not  superficial.  What  he  knew,  he 
knew  well.  One  of  his  early  instructers  said  of 
him :  "  II  veut  tout  approfondir."  And  this 
character  he  retained  to  the  end  of  life,  with 
respect  to  every  object  which  he  deemed  worthy 
of  his  serious  attention.  Whatever  subject  of 
general  importance  or  interest,  that  occurred?  in 
conversation,  or  in  the  business  of  life,  he  either 
possessed  all  the  requisite  information,  or  he 
could  readily  obtain  it,  by  a  reference  to  some 
written  authority,  or  by  judicious  questions  and 
observations  addressed  to  those  with  whom  he 


192 

was  conversing.  Even  in  his  retirement  at  Hold- 
gate,  he  was  much  consulted  on  matters  of  law 
and  literature,  morals  and  religion,  the  forming 
and  conducting  of  public  and  private  institu- 
tions; and,  indeed,  on  all  subjects  of  importance 
in  themselves,  or  in  the  view  of  those  who  con- 
sulted him.  The  opinion  which  he  gave,  was, 
on  most  occasions,  just ;  and  satisfactory  to  those 
by  whom  it  was  requested. 

His  disposition  was  uncommonly  active.  When 
he  became  incapable  of  bodily  exertion,  he  turn- 
ed, with  alacrity,  to  pursuits  purely  intellectual. 
His  friends  sometimes  expressed  their  apprehen- 
sion that  his  close  application  to  literary  employ- 
ments, might,  in  his  weak  state  of  health,  prove 
injurious  to  him;  he  would  pleasantly  say:  "It 
is  better  to  wear  away,  than  to  rust  away." 

He  had  an  even  flow  of  spirits,  and  great  cheer- 
fulness of  temper.  He  seems  to  have  been  nat- 
urally mild,  gentle,  and  compassionate,  yet  firm, 
steadfast,  and  resolute.  He  possessed  to  the 
latest  period  of  his  life,  lively  sensibility,  warmth 
of  feeling,  and  tenderness  of  affection. 

He  exercised  great  and  habitual  self  control. 
All  his  feelings  and  emotions  were,  as  far  as 
human  imperfection  will  allow,  subjugated  by 
reason  and  religion.  He  was  quick  in  discerning, 
and  solicitous  to  check,  the  risings  of  evil  pas- 
sions, and  to  refrain,  as  far  as  possi  ble,  from  acting 


193 

under  their  influence.  He  seldom  suffered  any 
circumstance,  or  event,  to  ruffle  his  temper,  or 
disturb  his  rest.  And  it  may  almost  be  remark- 
ed of  him,  as  of  an  eminent  statesman,  that  "  he 
could  cast  off  his  cares  with  his  clothes." 

His  joys  and  griefs,  his  hopes  and  fears,  his 
purposes  and  desires,  on  all  occasions  on  which 
I  ever  witnessed  them,  were  tempered,  partly  by 
native  mildness,  and  partly  by  religious  con- 
siderations. The  delicacy  of  taste  and  feeling, 
which  he  cultivated,  seemed  to  have  a  consider- 
able effect  in  inducing  a  certain  nicety  and 
caution,  and  the  avoidance  of  error  and  excess, 
both  moral  and  intellectual.  He  was  free  from 
that  vain  inflation  of  mind,  and  self  sufficiency, 
which  too  often  accompany  and  disgrace  talents; 
and  he  was  equally  removed  from  despondence, 
or  a  groundless  distrust  of  the  abilities  which  he 
possessed.  Of  his  own  character,  he  formed  a 
just,  though  humble  estimate ;  preserving  a  due 
medium  between  pride  on  the  one  hand,  and 
degradation  on  the  other. 

He  entertained  a  high  sense  of  moral  obliga- 
tion. His  probity  was  unimpeachable.  He 
neither  allowed  nor  tolerated  in  himself,  a  de- 
parture, in  any  degree,  or  on  any  occasion,  from 
strict  integrity.  In  all  his  transactions,  particu- 
larly of  a  pecuniary  nature,  he  was  scrupulously 

exact:   careful  to  take  no  unfair  advantage,  to 

27 


194 

evade  no  rightful  claim,  and  to  omit  or  delay  no 
just  payment,  whether  with  respect  to  govern- 
ment or  any  public  body,  or  to  individuals.  Both 
in  narration  and  assertion,  he  considered  it  an 
indispensable  duty  to  adhere  inviolably  to  truth; 
even  on  small  matters,  and  on  points  that  are 
too  generally  deemed  of  little  moment.  He  was 
careful  to  make  no  promise  or  engagement  which 
he  could  not  fulfil ;  nor  any  profession,  which  he 
could  not  justify  by  his  actions,  or  by  the  genu- 
ine feelings  of  his  heart. 

His  tender  and  humble  spirit  was  the  proper 
soil  in  which  religion  could  take  deep  root,  and 
flourish. — Often  did  the  tear  of  sensibility  glis- 
ten in  his  eyes,  when  he  heard,  or  read,  affecting 
passages  from  the  Scriptures,  and  other  writings; 
particularly  those  which,  in  pointing  out  the 
excellent  uses  of  affliction,  applied  very  forcibly 
to  his  own  state,  and  to  the  feelings  of  his  own 
mind. 

From  childhood  to  the  latest  period  of  his 
life,  he  was,  in  a  high  degree,  susceptible  of 
religious  impressions. — The  sun  of  righteousness 
appeared  in  the  early  morning  of  his  days ; 
shone,  as  it  advanced,  with  increasing  splendour, 
and  set  in  brightness :  and  it  has  now,  I  trust, 
arisen  in  that  morning  without  clouds,  which 
ushers  in  a  day  of  never-ending,  effulgent  glory. 


195 

In  early  life,  Mr.  Murray  was  remarkably  live- 
ly. He  engaged  in  many  pursuits  and  amuse- 
ments, which  his  improved  reason,  and  sense  of 
religious  duty,  afterwards  condemned.  But  he 
was  never  a  slave  to  amusement ;  never  allowed 
himself  in  any  that  are  absolutely  sinful ;  and 
never  became  corrupt  in  principle,  or  negligent 
of  the  duties  of  life.  His  buoyant  spirits,  his  ar- 
dent affections,  arid  his  superior  intellect,  ren- 
dered his  society  much  courted,  and  gave  a  high 
zest  to  social  enjoyment.  His  profession  of  the 
law,  and  his  widely  extended  family  connexions, 
naturally  led  him  into  company,  and  not  unfre- 
quently  into  parties  of  pleasure.  He  entered 
into  the  gaieties  of  the  passing  scene,  with  more 
spirit  arid  animation  than  most  others  did,  be- 
cause he  brought  to  them  a  purer  mind,  and  he 
considered  them  only  as  relaxations  from  study 
or  business.  But  so  correct  was  his  conduct,  that 
his  companions,  who  were  less  restrained  than 
himself,  used  not  unfrequently  to  say :  "  Mr. 
Murray,  you  are  a  spy  upon  us !"  and  they  com- 
mented on  his  moderation  and  self  control,  some- 
times sarcastically,  sometimes  with  merited 
commendation.  On  some  occasions,  he  may  have 
exceeded  the  bounds  of  the  strictest  temperance 
and  self  command :  yet  he  was  never  intoxicated  ? 
and  but  two  or  three  times  in  a  condition,  in  any 
degree,  approaching  to  it.  Doubtless,  it  is  to 


196 

his  circumspection  under  the  trials  of  youth,  that 
he  owed  much  of  the  future  comfort,  happiness, 
and  respectability  of  his  life.  Few,  I  believe, 
have  mixed  so  much  in  the  gay  and  busy  scenes 
of  the  world,  and  retained  a  more  pure,  benevo- 
lent, and  pious  spirit,  and  a  more  unblemished 
character.  The  philosopher  who  has  just  notions 
of  the  excellence  of  virtue,  will  applaud  his 
wisdom,  his  calm  self  possession,  and  his  almost 
complete  triumph  over  the  seductions  of  plea- 
sure, The  Christian  will  observe  in  them,  as  in 
every  appearance  of  nature,  every  event  in  hu- 
man life,  the  guiding  and  protecting  hand  of  a 
most  wise  and  merciful  Providence. 

Mr.  Murray  often  acknowledged  preservation 
from  the  snares  of  youth,  as  one  of  the  greatest 
blessings  of  his  life.  "  I  stood,"  said  he,  "  on 
the  brink  of  a  precipice ;  and,  through  Infinite 
mercy,  1  was  preserved  from  falling  into  it." 
On  one  occasion,  having  taken  an  affecting  re- 
view of  his  early  life,  he  added,  with  deep 
humility:  "I  have  abundant  cause  of  thankful- 
ness to  God,  that  he  has  preserved  me  through 
those  dangerous  scenes  of  folly;  and  has  merci- 
fully enabled  me,  in  some  degree,  to  live  to  his 
praise ;  and  to  cherish  a  hope,  that  I  shall  an- 
swer the  great  end  of  my  existence,  by  glorifying 
and  serving  him  for  ever." 


197 


Mr.  Murray  regularly  attended  public  wor- 
ship, as  long  as  his  health  would  permit ;  and  often 
even  when  his  weakness,  and  extreme  suscepti- 
bility of  cold,  rendered  his  attendance  rather 
hazardous.  His  behaviour,  on  such  occasions, 
was  suited  to  the  solemnity  of  them;  and  his 
countenance  bespoke  at  once  the  calm,  collect- 
ed, and  devout  frame  of  his  mind. 

He  had  a  great  and  increasing  regard  for  the 
sabbath.  He  was  highly  sensible  of  the  propri- 
ety, and  even  necessity,  of  a  due  observance  of 
it:  considering  it  as  a  day  peculiarly  set  apart 
for  social  worship,  and  private  meditation ;  a 
day  of  rest  from  worldly  business;  of  suspension, 
as  far  as  possible,  from  worldly  care;  and  of 
preparation,  by  religious  exercises  and  services, 
for  that  happy  world,  where  the  redeemed  of 
the  Lord  celebrate  a  perpetual  sabbath.  One 
small  instance  of  his  reverence  for  the  sabbath 
may  not  improperly  be  adduced.  He  took  much 
pleasure  in  reading  a  daily  newspaper:  but  that 
he  might  not,  on  any  occasion  of  peculiar  inter- 
est, be  induced  to  look  into  it,  on  the  sabbath 
day,  he  did  not,  on  that  day,  receive  it  into  his 
house ;  but  read,  or  heard  read,  two  papers  on 
the  following  day.  In  one  of  his  manuscripts, 
he  observes:  "The  public  worship  of  the  Al- 
mighty is  a  special  duty  of  all  men;  resulting 
from  the  relation  in  which  we  all  stand  to  God, 


198 


as  our  Creator,  Preserver,  and  Benefactor.  Com- 
mon benefits  demand  common  and  united  thanks- 
givings and  praises.  That  this  great  duty  ought 
to  be  frequently  performed,  is  evident,  from 
the  nature  of  it,  and  the  end  which  it  has  in  view. 
If  a  day  of  religious  rest  and  social  worship,  did 
not  often  occur,  there  would  be  danger,  that  the 
sense  of  gratitude  to  God,  and  of  entire  depend- 
ance  upon  him,  would  languish,  if  not  expire, 
in  the  minds  of  men.  That  the  observance  of  a 
weekly  sabbath  is  entitled  to  distinguished  re- 
gard, and  is  supported  by  Divine  authority,  ap- 
pears from  its  being  a  part  of  the  ten  command- 
ments ;  and  written,  as  with  the  hand  of  God,  on 
tables  of  stone,  among  moral  precepts  of  the 
highest  importance.  If  an  institution  of  this  kind 
had  not  been  intimately  connected  with  the  re- 
ligious welfare  of  men,  it  would  not  have  been 
classed,  in  such  a  manner,  with  duties  of  the  most 
interesting  nature." 

Mr.  Murray  had  a  firm  conviction  of  the  Di- 
vine truth  and  efficacy  of  Christianity.  This 
conviction  commenced  with  the  early  dawn  of 
reason;  and  continued,  through  life,  with  un- 
shaken and  even  increasing  force.  It  was  so 
satisfactory  to  himself,  that  he  was  solicitous  to 
impress  it  on  others.  But  he  never  made  a 
wordy  profession;  seeming  to  bear  in  mind  the 
Scriptural  admonition:  "  God  is  in  heaven,  and 


199 

thou  upon  earth ;  therefore,  let  thy  words  be 
few."  He  never  obtruded  his  sentiments  ;  nor 
lessened  their  force  by  pressing  them  on  unsuit- 
able occasions :  at  the  same  time  he  did  not 
shrink  from  any  opportunity  of  paying  homage  to 
Divine  truth,  or  of  supporting  it  to  the  utmost  of 
his  power.  He  never  spoke  on  religious  subjects, 
for  form  sake,  or  as  a  matter  of  course  :  but  al- 
ways with  calmness,  seriousness,  and  reverence. 
Whatever  he  said,  seemed  to  flow  from  the  feel- 
ing of  his  heart,  and  the  conviction  of  his  un- 
derstanding. 

But  religion  with  him  was  not  confined  to  a 
barren  assent  of  the  mind,  or  to  occasional  feel- 
ing. He  experienced,  and,  with  pious  simplicity, 
evinced,  its  renewing,  purifying,  and  sanctifying 
influence.  It  formed  his  character ;  it  regulated 
his  conduct;  it  cherished  and  directed  his  tal- 
ents ;  it  enlarged  his  views  and  affections ;  it  ele- 
vated his  thoughts,  his  hopes,  and  desires,  from 
earth  to  heaven.  He  lived  in  a  confirmed  belief 
of  the  general  and  immediate  agency  of  Provi- 
dence; in  a  spirit  of  prayer;  and  in  constant, 
daily  trust  in  God,  and  dependance  on  his  care 
and  goodness. 

He  regarded  the  Holy  Scriptures  with  pro- 
found veneration  and  love ;  as  a  rule  of  life 
and  faith,  and  the  record  of  Divine  goodness  to 
fallen,  sinful  man.  He  read  them ;  he  meditated 


200 

on  them;  he  recommended  them  to  others; 
he  esteemed  it  a  favour  to  be  enabled,  in  any 
degree,  to  promote  the  knowledge  and  circulation 
of  them. — On  sending  a  Bible  to  a  young  friend, 
he  observed :  "  How  great  a  privilege  it  is,  to 
be  blessed  with  so  clear  and  important  communi- 
cations of  the  Divine  will !  which  at  once  en- 
lighten and  enlarge  the  understanding,  warm 
and  animate  the  heart,  and  continually  present 
to  the  religious  mind,  a  defence,  support,  and 
comfort,  under  all  the  trials  and  vicissitudes  of 
life.  It  is  the  secret  influence  of  the  Divine 
Spirit  alone,  which  can  effectually  bless  and 
sanctify  the  perusal  of  these  invaluable  books ; 
and  make  them  a  feast  more  truly  rational  and 
delightful,  than  can  be  afforded  by  the  most 
finished  human  compositions,  that  ever  were 
exhibited."  On  recommending  the  Bible  Society 
to  an  affluent  friend ;  he  said  :  "  Should  we  not 
count  it  a  privilege  that  we  can,  in  any  degree^ 
promote  the  dear  Redeemer's  kingdom  ?" 

Among  men,  Mr.  Murray  knew  his  compara- 
tive worth ;  he  felt  and  maintained  his  dignity : 
but  before  the  Omnipotent  he  was  prostrate  in 
spirit,  and  deeply  humbled;  all  his  honours  were 
laid  low ;  all  his  good  deeds  forgotten  ;  he  im- 
plored mercy, pardon,  and  help;  he  pleaded  on]y 
the  merits  of  the  Redeemer.  Whilst  the  world 
ndmired  him,  whilst  his  most  intimate  friends 


201 

and  acquaintance  revered  him,  and  could  scarce- 
ly find  any  fault  in  him ;  it  appears  plainly,  from 
many  passages  in  his  memoirs,  from  the  extracts 
which  I  have  given,  in  the  preceding  chapter, 
from  his  manuscripts,  and  from  his  verbal  declar- 
ations on  many  occasions,  that  he  deeply  mourn- 
ed his  transgressions;  he  felt  and  lamented  his 
weakness,  his  infirmity,  and  his  sinfulness ;  he 
acknowledged  that  he  had  no  hope  of  deliver- 
ance from  sin,  and  of  eternal  happiness,  but 
through  the  atonement  and  intercession  of  the 
ever  blessed  Redeemer. 

Though  highly  gifted,  and  eminently  success- 
ful in  the  exercise  of  his  talents,  he  never  arro- 
gated any  merit  to  himself;  but,  in  great  humili- 
ty, attributed  all  the  means  with  which  he  had 
been  blessed  of  doing  good  in  the  world,  to  that 
gracious  Power  from  whom  they  had  been  deriv- 
ed. The  following  sentiment,  though  expressed 
by  him  on  a  particular  occasion,  was,  I  believe, 
habitual,  whenever  he  contemplated  any  good, 
which  he  had  been  the  instrument  in  the  hands 
of  Providence  of  accomplishing :  "  I  feel  hum- 
bled in  spirit ;  and  I  adore  the  condescension  of 
that  Great  Being,  who  deigns  to  employ  so  fee- 
ble  and  undeserving  a  creature  in  the  advance- 
ment of  his  work." 

The  chastened  feeling  with  which  he  con- 
templated the  great  success  of  his  literary  pro- 
28 


202 

ductions,and  the  reputation  which  they  procured 
for  him,  is  strikingly  displayed  in  the  meditation, 
or  prayer,  inserted  in  the  preceding  chapter. — 
He  was,  certainly,  much  gratified  at  the  distin- 
guished approbation  which  his  works  received, 
and  at  their  uncommon  sale.  But  the  pleasure 
which  he  felt,  was,  I  believe,  unconnected  with 
the  gratification  of  pride  or  vanity.  It  seemed 
only  to  animate  him  to  fresh  exertions;  and  to  ex- 
cite renewed  gratitude  to  the  Giver  of  all  good, 
and  the  Disposer  of  all  events.  "I  hope,"  said  he, 
"  that  the  praises,  both  public  and  private,  which 
I  have  received,  have  not,  in  any  degree,  puffed 
me  up  with  pride  ;  or  made  me  contemptuous 
in  my  treatment,  or  opinion,  of  others,  more 
worthy,  but  less  distinguished,  than  myself." 

On  an  other  occasion,  having  mentioned  the 
extensive  sale,  and  high  reputation  of  his  works, 
he  added  :  "  1  hope  that  this  flattering  success 
has  no  improper  effect  upon  me.  I  am  sure  that 
my  manifold  imperfections  are  sufficient  to  check 
elation  of  mind,  and  make  me  humble.  I  do, 
indeed,  feel  grateful  to  the  Author  of  all  good, 
that,  under  my  long-continued  bodily  infirmities, 
I  am  not  yet  a  useless  being  in  the  world." 

During  the  course  of  a  severe  though  short 
illness,  which  brought  the  prospect  of  death  very 
near  to  him,  he  said  to  me  :  "  It  is  a  pleasing, 
though  affecting  consideration,  that  when  1  am 


203 

mouldering  in  the  dust,  thousands  will  probably 
be  perusing  my  books;  and,  I  hope,  deriving 
from  them  moral  and  religious  instruction,  and 
treasuring  up  in  their  minds  sentiments  that  will 
influence  their  future  conduct."  On  the  same 
occasion,  he  said :  "  I  own  I  have  been  pleased, 
but,  I  trust,  not  improperly,  with  the  general 
approbation  and  acceptance  which  my  literary 
labours  have  received.  But  if  I  know  my  own 
heart,  my  satisfaction  arises  from  the  belief  that 
my  works  are  useful;  and  that  the  wide  circu- 
lation of  them  will  tend  to  the  promotion  of  vir- 
tue and  piety.  Whatever  literary  reputation  I 
may  possess,  is  certainly  derived  from  my  gram- 
matical works:  but  the  chief,  if  not  the  only, 
satisfaction,  which  I  now  feel,  or  which  I  ever 
have  felt  in  the  hour  of  serious  reflection,  from 
the  publication  of  them,  arises  from  the  con- 
sideration, that  the  elements  of  our  language 
may  now  be  acquired,  not  only  without  injury 
to  morals,  but  they  are  made  the  means  of  in- 
fusing into  the  young  mind,  sentiments  of  the 
best  and  noblest  kind.  Had  I  only  taught  how 
to  put  words  together,  I  could  not,  at  this  awful 
hour,  have  reflected  on  my  literary,  labours  with 
that  satisfaction  which  I  now  feel.  I  do  riot 
mention  these  things,  or  consider  them,  as  merits, 
in  the  eyes  of  my  great  Creator  and  Judge.  If 
they  were  weighed  in  the  balance  with  my  mani- 


204 

fold  transgressions,  they  would  be  found  light 
indeed." 

Mr.  Murray's  resignation,  under  suffering  and 
privation,  and  under  all  the  trials  of  life,  were 
remarkable.  He  seemed  to  have  no  repining  or 
vexatious  thoughts  that  he  deserved  better  of 
the  Supreme  Ruler  than  he  received ;  nor  was 
he  grieved  when  he  saw  others  possessed  of 
advantages,  which  were  withheld  from  him.  His 
amiable  disposition,  as  well  as  his  sense  of  re- 
ligious duty,  induced  him,  at  all  times,  to  make 
the  best  of  his  condition,  and  to  look  at  the  bright 
side  of  surrounding  objects.  Both  in  his  letters 
and  in  his  conversation,  he  often  expressed  him- 
self to  the  following  purport:  "  I  am  persuaded 
that  Infinite  Goodness  knows  what  is  best  for 
me ;  and  has  assigned  me  my  proper  allotment. 
In  his  merciful  appointment  I  acquiesce.  To 
his  will  I  desire  humbly  and  cheerfully  to  resign 
myself  and  all  my  concerns.  It  is  a  blessing  that 
I  am  preserved  from  repining  at  my  condition. 
I  have,  indeed,  no  cause  for  murmuring;  but 
much  for  humiliation  and  unceasing  thankful- 
ness." All  the  ills  that  befel  him,  he  received, 
with  gentleness  and  submission,  as  trials  or  chas- 
tisements ;  and  often  mentioned  them  as  bless- 
ings in  disguise. 

He  bore  all  his  afflictions  with  the  most  ex- 
emplary patience ;  particularly  many  very  severe 


205 

illnesses,  and,  during  a  long  course  of  years,  al- 
most continued  weakness  and  langour.  But  even 
in  this  respect  he  fell  short  of  apprehended  duty; 
and  he  used  not  unfrequently  to  lament  that  he 
could  not  attain  greater  devotedness  to  the  Di- 
vine will,  and  bear  bodily  pain  and  suffering  with 
more  composure  of  mind.  In  a  very  violent  ill- 
ness which  he  had  in  America,  (a  constipation  of 
the  bowels,)  feeling  excruciating  pain,  he  held 
forth  his  hand,  and  gently  snapped  his  fingers, 
in  a  manner  and  with  an  expression  of  counte- 
nance, which  indicated,  that  his  sufferings  were 
almost  beyond  his  power  of  endurance;  but  he 
uttered  not  a  word. — Debility  and  confinement 
must  have  been,  in  the  commencement  at  least, 
a  sore  trial  and  grievous  affliction,  to  a  person 
distinguished  as  Mr.  Murray  had  been  by  health, 
strength,  and  agility.  Never,  I  believe,  did  a 
murmur  or  complaint,  on  this  or  any  other  ac- 
count, issue  from  his  lips,  or  arise  in  his  heart. 

I  do  not  think  that  any  of  his  afflictions, 
even  when  they  pressed  hard  upon  him,  dimin- 
ished, in  the  slightest  degree,  his  love  and  re- 
verence for  the  Supreme  Being.  Gratitude 
seemed  to  be  the  predominant  and  warmest  af- 
fection, which  he  felt  for  the  Almighty ;  praise 
and  thanksgiving  his  favourite  theme.  He  was 
grateful  for  every  thing ;  for  his  afflictions,  be- 
cause they  brought  him  nearer  to  God  and  heav- 


206 

en  ;  and  for  his  blessings,  because  they  were  an 
earnest  of  Divine  favour  and  goodness.  He  often 
expressed  a  fervent  desire  that  all  his  trials 
and  afflictions  might  be  sanctified  to  him;  and 
all  his  blessings  carefully  numbered,  and  grate- 
fully acknowledged.  But  though  so  resigned  to 
whatever  befel  him  of  an  afflictive  nature,  and 
so  patient  and  contented  under  it,  few  persons 
enjoyed  the  blessings  of  life  more  feelingly  than 
he  did ;  few  were  more  grateful  to  the  Supreme 
Dispenser  of  good.  All  his  enjoyments  were 
heightened  by  reflection,  and  by  a  tender  sense 
of  obligation  to  his  heavenly  Benefactor. 

Both  in  sickness  and  in  health,  he  often  spoke 
of  his  own  death,  in  terms  at  once  calm,  serious, 
and  affecting;  but  never,  in  the  slightest  degree, 
indicating  any  unmanly  or  unchristian  fear.  His 
affectionate  disposition,  his  lively  sensibility,  and 
the  many  blessings  which  he  enjoyed,  rendered 
life  very  pleasant  to  him ;  he  valued  it  highly ; 
he  was  grateful  for  it;  and  he  took  all  judi- 
cious means  to  preserve  and  prolong  it :  but  dur- 
ing all  the  years  in  which  I  was  acquainted  with 
him,  and  I  believe,  long  before,  he  seemed  ready, 
at  any  moment,  to  resign  it  into  the  hands  of  the 
great  Bestower,  in  hopes  of  a  better  life,  and  a 
more  glorious  inheritance. 

Once,  when  recovering  from  an  alarming  ill- 
ness, he  said  :  «  My  life,  upon  the  whole,  has 


207 

been  a  comfortable  one ;  and  marked  by  many 
blessings.  I  have  bad  my  afflictions ;  but  these 
have  doubtless  been  intended  for  my  good.  I 
have  felt  them  to  be  so :  and  some  of  them,  I 
hope,  I  have  properly  improved."  On  the  same 
occasion,  he  said :  "  I  have  had  an  admonition ; 
a  very  gentle  one.  I  trust  I  shall  not  soon  forget 
it — I  wish  to  be  prepared  for  death  ;  and  to  be 
more  and  more  weaned  from  life,  and  all  its  en- 
joyments." 

He  had  near  and  affecting  views  of  a  future 
state  of  blessedness;  and  often  discoursed  on  the 
subject  with  animation.  He  believed  that  the 
happiness  of  heaven  consists  in  the  enlargement 
of  the  faculties  of  the  mind,  and  the  complete 
purification  of  the  heart ;  in  the  adoration  of  the 
Supreme  Being,  with  a  clear  understanding  of 
his  wonderful  wisdom  and  goodness ;  in  com- 
munion with  the  spirits  of  just  men  made  per- 
fect ;  in  administering,  in  some  way  or  other, 
to  the  happiness  of  God's  creatures;  and  in  ex- 
tending the  boundaries  of  his  most  righteous, 
holy,  and  wise  government.  He  believed,  in 
common  with  most  pious  persons,  that  in  a 
state  of  blessedness,  the  soul  retains  a  general 
consciousness  of  its  previous  existence  on  earth ; 
and  also  renews  virtuous  affections  and  friend- 
ships, but  only  in  such  a  way  as  is  freed  from 


208 

every  thing  painful,  debasing,  or  inconsistent 
with  perfect  bliss  and  purity. 

Being  congratulated  on  one  of  his  birthdays, 
he  replied  :  "  Many  returns  of  this  anniversary,  I 
can  not  have :  but  I  have  a  humble  trust,  that, 
through  the  mercy  of  God  in  Jesus  Christ,  I 
shall  be  made  one  of  those  happy  beings,  who 
are  employed  in  his  service  in  the  realms  of 
light  and  joy;  and  who  perform  that  service 
with  the  utmost  alacrity ;  feeling  it  to  be  their 
highest  honour  and  privilege,  to  do  the  will,  and 
promote  the  cause,  of  their  most  gracious  Lord 
and  Father." 

In  the  last  of  his  little  anniversary  addresses 
to  his  wife,  written  in  his  eighty -first  year,  he 
says :  "  For  the  mercies  of  preservation,  and  the 
continuance  of  the  many  blessings  we  have  had 
together,  we  have  abundant  cause  to  be  thankful 
to  our  heavenly  Protector  and  Father.  May 
He  be  pleased  to  prepare  us  for  his  holy  and 
happy  kingdom ;  where  we  shall  then  have  to 
rejoice  for  ever,  in  rendering  continual  thanks- 
givings and  praises,  and  the  most  devout  and 
zealous  services,  to  our  heavenly  Father,  Re- 
deemer, and  Sanctifier,  one  God,  blessed  for 
ever !" 

In  one  of  his  manuscripts,  he  observes  :  "  If 
it  would  be  a  circumstance  of  satisfaction,  that 
the  redeemed  shall  be  with  the  patriarchs  whom 


209 

they  never  knew ;  may  we  not  believe  that  it 
will  also  be  peculiarly  rejoicing  to  meet  those 
whom  they  did  know  and  love  ? 

No  doubt  there  will  be  many  new  and  great 
sources  of  joy,  to  those  who  are  admitted  into 
the  realms  of  bliss :  but  may  we  not  reasonably 
believe  that  one  of  those  sources  will  be  the  re- 
union of  those  who  loved  one  an  other  here,  and 
promoted  each  other's  best  interests  on  earth? — 
Could  they  know  one  an  other  in  a  happy  state, 
and  remember  the  spiritual  strength  and  comfort, 
given  and  received  in  the  days  of  trial  and  trou- 
ble below,  without  partaking  of  a  pure  and 
lively  joy  in  the  eternal  deliverance  and  happi- 
ness of  one  an  other  ?" 

Mr.  Murray  was  a  member  of  the  society  of 
Quakers,  or  Friends :  by  whom  he  was  much  re- 
spected and  esteemed,  and  justly  considered  as 
one  of  their  brightest  ornaments.  From  his 
earliest  years,  he  was  educated  in  the  principles 
of  that  society,  to  which  he  uniformly  adhered. 
In  his  conduct  and  conversation,  except  in  some 
instances  in  early  life,  he  conformed  to  all  the 
peculiarities  of  the  sect ;  but  always  with  his 
accustomed  delicacy,  and  regard  to  the  feelings 
of  others.  Though  attached  to  his  own  sect,  he 
had  a  great  respect  for  truly  religious  persons  of 
every  denomination :  he  considered  them,  and 
29 


often  spoke  of  them,  as  members  of  one  church, 
children  of  one  holy  and  blessed  family,  and 
fellow-travellers  to  a  heavenly  country.  Some 
of  his  nearest  relations,  and  many  of  his  friends, 
were  not  Quakers  ;  this  circumstance  probably 
tended  in  no  small  degree,  to  preserve  him  from 
a  spirit  of  bigotry.  But  his  enlarged  views  both 
of  divine  and  human  nature,  were  sufficient, 
independently  of  any  other  consideration,  to 
guard  him  from  the  extravagant  opinion,  which 
lurks  in  the  minds  of  some,  even  pious  persons, 
that  to  their  own  sect  or  party,  to  those  who 
adopt  the  same  expressions,  or  join  in  the  same 
forms  of  worship  with  themselves,  belong  ex- 
clusively all  virtue,  piety,  and  acceptance  with 
God.  "  Various,"  Mr.  Murray  observed,  "  are 
the  shades  and  degrees  of  our  understandings 
and  natural  dispositions :  but  if  the  holy  princi- 
ple is  suffered  to  rule,  it  will  make  them  all 
acceptable  to  HIM  who  framed  them,  though  it 
may  not  model  them  to  any  standard  of  uni- 
formity. We  are  long  in  learning  to  judge 
wisely  of  one  an  other ;  and  to  make  charitable 
allowances  for  difference  of  understanding,  dis- 
position, education,  &c.  Mankind  are  all  breth- 
ren, the  children  of  one  Father :  they  should, 
therefore,  when  we  believe  them  sincere  and 
upright,  be  received  as  fellow-partakers  of  the 
same  privileges." 


211 

On  an  other  occasion,  he  observed :  "  I  respect 
piety  and  virtue  wherever  I  meet  them.  It 
would  be  a  proof  of  my  own  superficiality  or 
depravity,  if  I  valued  a  truly  religious  man  the 
less  for  the  name  and  profession  which  he  sus- 
tains. I  trust  that  I  shall  ever  be  influenced  by 
the  cheering  sentiment,  that  every  man  who  sin- 
cerely loves  God  and  works  righteousness,  is  ac- 
cepted by  him,  and  is  entitled  to  universal  esteem 
and  regard." 

In  all  the  varied  relations  of  life,  Mr.  Murray's 
conduct  was  excellent.  He  was  attentive  to 
every  dictate  of  affection,  and  every  requirement 
of  duty.  He  understood  well  the  nature  and  ex- 
tent of  all  his  relative  duties;  he  had  reflected 
much  upon  them ;  and  he  seemed  to  take  pleas- 
ure in  performing  them.  He  possessed,  in  an 
uncommon  degree,  the  respect  and  affection  of 
all  with  whom  he  was  intimately  connected. 
Few  persons  ever  left  their  native  land,  more 
beloved  and  regretted  by  numerous  relations 
and  friends,  or  took  with  them  more  blessings 
and  good  wishes.  During  the  whole  time  of 
his  residence  in  this  country,  though  long  and 
far  separated  from  his  relatives,  he  preserved  a 
most  affectionate  remembrance  of  them ;  he  ren- 
dered them  all  the  varied  services  and  assistance 
which  circumstances  would  allow;  and  he  kept 
up  with  them  a  regular  and  frequent  correspond* 


212 

ence.     He  said,  no  time,  nor  distance,  weak- 
ened his  attachment  for  them. 

To  his  parents,  particularly  to  his  mother,  he 
was  very  affectionate.  And  he  was  also  highly 
obedient  and  respectful;  except  perhaps  in  a  fevr 
instances,  in  which  the  vivacity  of  his  temper, 
and  the  peculiarity  of  his  circumstances,  may 
have  betrayed  him  into  some  violation  of  filial 
duty.  To  his  brother  and  sisters  he  was  uni- 
formly kind  and  attentive. 

As  a  husband,  he  was  tenderly  affectionate, 
and  indulgent.  He  was  the  revered  guide,  and 
beloved  friend  of  his  wife ;  her  constant  moni- 
tor ;  her  counsellor  in  difficulty ;  her  comforter 
in  affliction.  She  often  said :  "  I  believe  it  is 
not  possible  for  any  woman  to  have  a  kinder  or 
more  affectionate  husband  than  I  have.  I  hope 
there  are  many  husbands  as  good  as  he  is :  but 
I  can  not  conceive,  or  allow,  that  any  can  be 
better."  They  lived  together,  upwards  of  fifty- 
eight  years,  in  uninterrupted  harmony.  They 
had  no  children :  but  neither  this  circumstance, 
nor  any  other,  diminished  their  mutual  affection, 
or  their  happiness.  During  the  first  years  of 
their  union,  Mr.  Murray  rather  wished  for  chil- 
dren: but  he  was  perfectly  satisfied  with  the 
allotment  of  Providence,  in  this,  as  well  as  in 
every  other  respect.  He  used  to  say  pleasantly 
that  his  books  were  his  children ;  that,  he  hoped, 


213 

(hey  were  well  settled  and  doing  good  in  the 
world ;  and  that  they  had  occasioned  him  less 
trouble  and  anxiety  than  most  children  give  to 
their  parents. 

He  was  a  humane  and  kind  master.  He  did 
not  dispense  with  the  performance  of  necessary 
or  proper  duty;  but  he  exercised  authority 
with  moderation,  forbearing  threatening,  and  all 
rude  or  harsh  expressions.  He  never  grudged 
his  servants  the  well  earned  reward  of  their 
services,  or  any  suitable  indulgence;  and  was 
always  desirous  that  they  should  have  full  time 
arid  opportunity,  not  only  to  attend  public  wor- 
ship, but  to  all  their  secular  and  spiritual  con- 
cerns. He  never  required,  or  looked  for,  more 
diligence  from  them,  than  could  reasonably  be 
expected ;  and  in  all  their  faults  and  failures, 
he  made  due  allowance  for  them,  as  beings  par- 
taking of  the  same  frail  nature  as  himself,  but 
exposed  to  peculiar  temptations  and  disadvan- 
tages. He  frequently  gave  them  advice,  and 
moral  or  religious  instruction,  adapted  to  their 
particular  characters  and  tempers.  When  they 
had  left  his  service  he  did  not  forget  or  forsake 
them;  he  continued  to  bestow  upon  them  such 
marks  of  attention,  or  of  pecuniary  assistance, 
as  their  respective  circumstances  required.  One 
of  his  servants,  who  had  lived  in  his  family  eight 
years,  being  questioned  as  to  her  future  pros. 


214 

pects  in  life,  said :  "  I  never  expect  to  find  a  bet- 
ter place,  nor  a  better  master  and  mistress." 
The  servant  who  lived  with  him  at  the  time  of 
his  decease,  said :  "  I  believe  no  person's  ser- 
vants are  more  comfortably  accommodated,  in 
health,  or  more  tenderly  cared  for,  in  sickness, 
than  I  am."  After  Mr.  Murray  gave  up  his  car- 
riage, which,  from  his  own  confinement  and  that 
of  his  wife,  had  become  useless,  he  kept  only  one 
regular,  stated  servant.  His  family,  for  some 
years  previous  to  his  decease,  consisted,  besides 
himself  and  his  wife,  of  one  servant,  and  a  fe- 
male friend,  who  lived  with  them  as  a  compan- 
ion ;  and  who  was  much  employed  in  reading  to 
them,  and  in  assisting  Mrs.  Murray  in  her  house- 
hold  concerns.  Both  these  persons,  at  the  time 
of  his  decease,  had  resided  in  his  family  nearly 
twelve  years.  He  has  left  them,  by  his  will,  a 
handsome  acknowledgment  of  their  services, 
and  of  his  regard.  They  respected  him  during 
his  lifetime,  and  lamented  him,  after  his  death, 
as  a  father  and  a  friend. 

The  praise  of  conscientious  servants  and  in- 
mates, may  justly  be  considered  as  the  highest 
panegyric  that  private  virtue  can  receive.  That 
praise  Mr.  Murray  obtained  in  a  high  degree; 
for,  I  believe,  no  servant  ever  lived  with  him, 
and  no  person  ever  resided  in  his  house,  either  as 
an  inmate,  or  an  occasional  guest,  who  did  not 


215 

highly  respect  him,  and  speak  of  him  in  terms 
of  the  warmest  commendation. 

He  was  a  kind  and  sincere  friend.  He  highly 
esteemed  his  friends ;  he  took  pleasure  in  their 
company;  but  so  just  was  the  estimate  which 
he  formed  of  human  life  and  character,  that  he 
entertained  no  unreasonable  expectations  from 
them.  With  great  delicacy  and  judgment,  he 
performed  towards  them  the  best  offices  of 
friendship.  He  admonished  and  advised  them; 
he  assisted  them  in  their  difficulties;  he  con- 
soled them  in  their  afflictions;  and,  which  is 
perhaps  the  severest  test  of  friendship,  he  bore 
patiently  with  their  weaknesses  and  foibles, 
though  perfectly  sensible  of  them,  and  he  usually 
concealed  from  others  the  faults  he  saw.  Few 
men,  none  certainly  in  so  retired  a  situation, 
ever  had  so  many  friends,  or  was  so  much  be- 
loved by  them.  He  engaged  their  warmest  at- 
tachment, and  excited  in  their  minds  a  peculiar- 
ity and  intenseness  of  interest.  "  We  felt  for 
him,"  said  one  of  his  friends,  after  his  decease, 
"  as  we  did  for  no  one  else."  "  In  other  persons, 
however  estimable,"  said  an  other  of  his  friends, 
"  we  can  observe  errors,  defects,  inconsisten- 
cies :  in  him,  we  could  discern  nothing  but  what 
was  amiable,  just,  and  proper." 

Enemies,  personal  enemies,  I  believe  he  had 
none.  Competitors  in  his  literary  career,  he  cer- 


216 

tainly  had :  but  he  practised  great  forbearance 
towards  them:  and  always  spoke  of  them  with 
respect  and  moderation.  One  of  the  first  of  his 
manuscripts  which  caught  my  attention  after  his 
decease,  contains  the  following  candid  abserva- 
tions:  "  I  not  only  feel  myself  very  much  obliged 
to  my  friends  for  their  kind  and  judicious  pri- 
vate remarks  on  my  grammatical  works ;  but  1 
owe  something  to  the  public  criticisms  of  several 
persons  who  are  not  very  friendly  to  these  pub- 
lications. Their  strictures  have  enabled  me 
sometimes  to  correct  a  real  error,  and  often  to 
remove  doubt,  and  prevent  misapprehension." 

Mr.  Murray  was  a  most  pleasing,  as  well  as 
instructive  companion.  His  voice,  though  not 
strong,  was  clear;  and  his  enunciation  remarkably 
distinct  and  correct.  So  great  was  the  versatility 
of  his  parts,  that  he  could  with  ease,  enter  into 
all  sorts  of  conversation  of  a  general  and  useful 
nature.  His  discourse  was  attractive  and  inter- 
esting even  to  children  and  ignorant  persons. 
With  wonderful  dexterity  and  condescension,  he 
drew  forth  from  the  rich  stores  of  his  reading 
and  experience,  facts,  anecdotes,  and  oberva- 
tions,  tending  to  recommend  some  moral  precept, 
or  to  impress  some  useful  information.  When  he 
had  young  visiters,  he  not  unfrequently  intro- 
duced some  book  or  paper,  which  he  requested 
them  to  read  aloud:  thus  diversifying  their  en- 


217 

tertainment,  enlarging  their  ideas,  and  suggest- 
ing to  them  new  subjects  of  useful  and  interest- 
ing conversation. 

In  general  discourse  he  did  not  talk  much,  nor 
long  together,  except  on  business  or  occasions 
which  rendered  it  necessary;  indeed,  he  was 
usually  prevented  by  the  weakness  of  his  voice. 
He  seldom  said  more  than  the  subject  required ; 
nor,  apparently,  more  than  he  intended.  He 
never  seemed  to  talk  for  the  sake  of  self  display, 
or  self  gratification.  To  please  or  edify  those 
with  whom  he  conversed,  or  to  obtain  from  them 
such  useful  information  as  they  were  capable  of 
affording,  were  his  favourite  objects. 

Subjects  of  importance  were  most  congenial 
to  his  mind.  These  he  frequently  introduced; 
and  he  seldom  failed  to  represent  them  in  a  new 
and  striking  point  of  view,  indicating  the  strength 
and  originality  of  his  mind.  He  was  unassuming 
in  opinion;  he  never  contended  eagerly  about 
trifles :  but,  at  the  same  time,  he  renounced  no 
important  truth,  or  just  principle.  The  general 
tenour  of  his  conversation  may  not  unaptly  be 
described  in  the  following  lines  of  the  poet : 

"  Still  turn'd  to  moral  virtue  was  his  speech ; 
And  gladly  would  he  learn,  and  meekly  teach." 

He  seemed  to  hold  in  his  hand  the  master 

key  of  the  heart  and  understanding  of  those 

30 


218 

with  whom  he  conversed,  or  with  whom  he  had 
to  do;  and  he  could,  at  will,  draw  forth  such 
tones,  grave  or  gay,  soft  or  strong,  as  suited  the 
present  occasion :  but  he  used  this  power  only 
for  good  and  legitimate  purposes;  to  allay  anger, 
to  sooth  discontent,  to  inspire  good  resolutions, 
to  prompt  judicious  decisions.  With  peculiar 
aptitude,  he  discovered,  and  called  forth,  the 
best  qualities,  the  best  thoughts  and  feelings,  of 
those  with  whom  he  conversed;  these  he  partic- 
ularly addressed  and  cherished :  so  that  in  his 
presence,  I  have  often  seen  the  thoughtless  be- 
come grave;  the  profligate,  serious;  the  dull, 
animate;  the  timid,  free;  and  the  reserved, 
communicative. 

He  had  a  happy  art  of  conveying  instruc- 
tion, reproof,  or  advice*  Instruction  he  gave 
with  precision,  unincumbered  with  any  extra- 
neous matter;  reproof  he  administered  with 
tenderness;  advice,  with  persuasive  gentleness. 
No  one,  on  consulting  him,  or  receiving  infor- 
mation from  him,  could  feel  humbled,  or  self 
abased.  He  never  exulted  in  the  superiority 
of  his  knowledge  or  wisdom.  He  was  slow  to 
contradict,  and  still  slower  to  blame.  He  listened 
patiently;  and  he  did  not  attempt  to  answer, or  to 
give  an  opinion,  till  he  understood  the  matter. 
He  never  exclaimed  at  the  folly,  ignorance,  or 
perversity,  of  those  who  consulted  him,  however 


219 

inwardly  convinced  of  it.  He  quietly  ascer- 
tained the  extent  of  their  capacity :  he  observed 
where  their  difficulty,  or  misapprehension  lay ; 
and  what  obstacles  pride,  passion,  or  prejudice, 
placed  in  the  way  of  truth.  By  argument 
clearly  and  forcibly  expressed,  by  gentle  persua- 
sion, or  by  innocent  pleasantry,  he  seldom  failed 
to  win  them  over  to  a  right  decision,  or  proper 
feeling. 

His  letters,  like  his  conversation,  seemed  dic- 
tated by  a  spirit  of  wisdom  and  of  kindness.    On 
.subjects  of  business,  they  were  clear,  explicit, 
and  concise ;  on  matters  in  which  self  was  con- 
cerned, delicate  and  cautious :  on  occasions  of 
giving  advice  or  admonition,  (which  sometimes 
occurred  even  with  regard  to  strangers,)  full  of 
candour  and  tenderness,  yet  firm  and  decisive. 
Sentiments  of  piety  were  so  deeply  impressed  on 
his  own  mind,  that  he  could  not  fail  to  endeavour, 
by  letter  as  well  as  in  words,  to  communicate  the 
impression  to  others.     His  letters,  even  on  mere 
business,  frequently  contained  some  sentiment, 
or  expression,  calling  to  the  mind  of  the  persons 
addressed,  the  concerns  of  an  other  and  a  better 
world.     His  correspondence  was  voluminous; 
and  the  number  of  persons  to  whom  he  wrote, 
very  great.     His  separation  from  his  relations, 
and  his   literary    concerns,    independently    of 
other  circumstances,  naturally  gave  occasion  to 


220 

much  writing.  Debarred  by  his  ill  health,  and 
frequently  by  the  weakness  of  his  voice,  from 
many  opportunities  of  personal  intercourse,  he 
often  expressed  in  writing  the  sentiments  which 
he  would  otherwise  have  spoken;  and  with  as 
much  freedom  and  ease  as  most  people  could 
converse.  His  celebrity  as  an  author,  and  as  a 
man  of  benevolence,  induced  many  persons, 
even  strangers,  to  write  to  him,  soliciting  advice, 
or  pecuniary  assistance  :  to  all  these  letters  he 
seldom  failed  to  return  prompt  and  kind  answers. 
His  letters  of  consolation  and  congratulation,  in 
particular,  were  numerous  :  for  so  lively  was  the 
interest  which  he  took  in  the  affairs  of  those 
persons,  with  whom  he  was  connected  or  ac- 
quainted, that  occasions  of  sorrow  or  joy  seldom 
occurred  to  them,  or  in  their  families  which  did 
not  call  forth  from  him  an  expression  of  tender 
and  pious  sympathy.  His  letters  were  not  de- 
signed, nor,  as  he  observed,  calculated  for  the 
public,  but  exclusively  for  the  persons  to  whom 
they  were  addressed:  he  has,  therefore,  as  I  have 
mentioned  in  the  preface,  left  in  writing  a  re- 
quest that  they  may  not  be  published.  To  all 
bis  correspondents,  whose  feeling  and  delicacy 
are,  in  any  degree,  congenial  to  his  own,  they 
will,  from  that  very  circumstance,  become  the 
more  deeply  interesting,  and  the  more  valuable, 
not,  indeed,  in  a  pecuniary  point  of  view,  but 


221 

intrinsically ;  and  they  will,  I  doubt  not,  be  pre- 
served with  reverential  care,  as  precious  relics 
of  a  departed  friend  arid  monitor. 

As  a  neighbour,  Mr.  Murray  was  highly  res- 
pected, and  truly  exemplary.  He  was  solicitous 
to  avoid  either  giving  or  taking  offence ;  loath 
to  believe,  and  still  more  loath  to  propagate,  any 
idle  tales,  or  rumours,  or  to  make  any  censorious 
remarks;  ready  to  unite,  as  far  as  his  situation 
would  allow,  in  every  useful  plan  for  general 
accommodation,  or  advantage  ;*  unwilling  to 
interfere  in  other  people's  affairs,  or  to  offer  his 
advice,  unless  he  thought  it  would  be  acceptable 
or  beneficial ;  and  very  humane  and  liberal  to 
the  poor,  particularly  in  time  of  sickness.  Dur- 
ing the  greater  part  of  his  abode  in  England,  he 
was  not  able  to  associate  much  with  his  neigh- 

*  Amongst  numerous  instances  of  this  kind,  the  following, 
though  comparatively  small,  is  characteristic,  and  therefore, 
not  unworthy  of  notice.  Unable  to  walk  himself,  he  conlrib* 
uted  largely  towards  forming  and  keeping  up  a  walk,  by  the 
side  of  the  road,  leading  from  Holdgate  and  other  places,  to  the 
city  of  York.  A  seat,  on  which  to  rest  the  weary  traveller, 
was  put  up,  by  the  side  of  this  walk,  entirely  at  Mr.  Murray's 
own  expense  :  which,  it  is  to  be  hoped,  will  not  be  injured  or 
demolished  by  rude,  rapacious  hands ;  but  will  henceforth  be 
called  Murray's  seat,  and  preserved  as  a  humble  memorial  of 
a  great  and  good  man,  who  lived  near  the  spot  where  it  is 
placed,  and  who,  by  his  long  residence,  has  given  celebrity  to 
the  little  village  of  Holdgate,  and  its  environs. 


222 

bours :  but  scarcely  any  one  ever  resided  in  his 
immediate  vicinity,  who  did  not,  in  some  way  or 
other,  receive  from  him,  some  kind,  delicate 
attention,  or  some  essential  service.  Both  himself 
and  his  wife  seemed  not  only  to  embrace,  but  to 
contrive,  opportunities  of  serving  and  obliging. 

Mr.  Murray  preserved  an  habitual  tenderness 
of  mind.  With  him  a  spirit  of  kindness  seemed 
in  constant  operation.  He  loved  to  be  at  peace 
with  all  persons,  especially  those  with  whom  he 
was  most  conversant.  He  seemed  grieved  when- 
ever he  perceived,  that,  through  inadvertence, 
or  any  unavoidable  circumstance,  he  had  given 
pain,  or  the  slightest  cause  of  offence  to  any  one; 
and  always  wished  for,  and  gladly  embraced,  an 
early  opportunity  of  endeavouring  to  remove 
the  impression. 

On  all  occasions  of  provocation  occurring  to 
himself,  particularly  when  he  received  any  mark 
of  inattention,  unkindness,  or  even  ingratitude, 
from  those  to  whom  he  was  attached,  or  whom 
he  had  served,  he  evidently  felt  keenly ;  but  he 
never  expressed  any  sentiment,  or  uttered  any 
expression,  unbecoming  a  Christian.  His  emo- 
tion soon  subsided  ;  and  his  resentment  passed 
away,  quick  as  a  transient  cloud  on  a  fine  sum- 
mer's day.  Not  only  the  sun  never  went  down 
on  his  anger;  but  even  the  next  hour  scarcely 
saw  any  traces  of  it.  On  manyoccasions,  he  has 


223 

been  known,  to  take  the  earliest  opportunity  of 
renewing  his  civility,  to  those  persons  by  whom 
his  feelings  had  been  thus  tried,  or  of  conferring 
fresh  favours  upon  them:  thus,  not  encouraging 
evil,  but  endeavouring,  according  to  the  Scrip- 
ture maxim,  to  overcome  evil  with  good. 

He  was  full  of  candour,  and  Christian  charity. 
Though  far  removed  from  that  easy  credulity 
which  is  imposed  on  by  every  specious  pretence, 
or  artful  profession, he  certainly  appeared  quick- 
er in  discerning  good  than  evil,  in  human  charac- 
ter and  conduct :  or,  at  least,  he  pointed  it  out, 
and  commented  upon  it,  with  greater  alacrity. 
The  good  was  pleasant  to  him,  and  congenial  to 
his  feelings.  The  ill  he  passed  by  as  lightly  as 
circumstances  would  allow.  He  condemned 
with  regret;  and  readily  admitted  every  ex- 
tenuation. 

He  was  pleased  with  little  services  and  atten- 
tions, and  grateful  for  them.  He  was  ready  to 
oblige,  and  willing  to  be  obliged.  To  confer 
favours  was  pleasant  to  him ;  and  he  could  not 
therefore,  refuse  to  others,  in  their  turn,  the 
gratification  which  he  so  often  felt.  A  gift,  or 
mark  of  attention,  however  small,  however 
awkwardly  presented,  when  offered  by  those 
whom  he  had  obliged,  seldom  failed  to  be  receiv- 
ed by  him  in  the  most  gracioos  manner.  On 
such  occasions,  he  would  sometimes  say :  "  This 


224 

person  thinks  himself  indebted  to  me ;  he  wishes 
to  discharge  part  of  the  debt,  or,  at  least  to  make 
some  acknowledgment  of  it :  why  should  I,  by 
my  refusal,  or  cold  acceptance,  deny  him  this 
gratification  ?'* 

In  the  performance  of  relative  duties,  Mr. 
Murray  did  not  forget  humanity  to  animals ; 
of  which  the  following  is  a  striking  instance, 
amongst  many  others  that  might  be  given.  In 
early  life,  he  was  fond  of  shooting;  but  after 
some  years  he  became  dissatisfied  with  it,  from 
a  conviction,  not  only  that  it  consumes  too  much 
precious  time,  but  also  that  it  is  improper  to  take 
away  life  for  the  sake  of  amusement.  He  be- 
lieved that  of  the  birds  which  are  shot  at,  many 
more  are  wounded,  than  are  actually  killed  and 
obtained;  and,  consequently,  they  gradually  pine 
away,  and  die  through  pain,  and  want  of  food. 
He  had  seen  birds  so  much  hurt,  as  to  be  inca- 
pable of  performing  their  natural  functions ;  and 
he  had  reason  to  believe  that  instances  of  this 
kind  are  very  numerous.  These  reflections 
made  such  an  impression  on  his  mind,  that  he 
determined  never  again  to  indulge  himself  in  a 
sport,  which  produced  so  much  distress  to  the 
objects  of  his  amusement. 

He  was  a  true  patriot.  America,  his  native 
land,  the  abode  of  his  relations,  and  his  own, 
during  a  great  part  of  his  life,  was  dear  to  him : 


225 

England  also  was  dear  to  him  ;  it  was  his 
adopted  country,  and  the  scene  of  his  greatest 
usefulness.  He  rejoiced  in  the  prosperity  of 
both  countries ;  and  particularly  wished  that 
peace  and  amity  should  prevail  between  them. 
He  was  a  friend  of  liberty,  both  civil  and  reli- 
gious; a  warm  asserter  of  the  just  rights  of 
man,  and  averse  to  despotic  power,  whether 
lodged  in  the  hands  of  one,  or  of  many:  but,  at 
the  same  time,  he  was  a  friend  of  order,  a  strenu- 
ous supporter  of  good  government,  and  opposed 
to  all  wild  theories  and  useless  innovation.  The 
British  constitution  he  much  admired:  "a  fa- 
bric," as  he  observes  in  one  of  his  publications, 
"  which  has  stood  the  test  of  ages,  and  attracted 
the  admiration  of  the  world.  It  combines  the 
advantages  of  the  three  great  forms  of  govern- 
ment, without  their  inconveniences:  it  preserves 
a  happy  balance  amongst  them  :  and  it  contains 
within  itself,  the  power  of  recurring  to  first 
principles,  and  of  rectifying  all  the  disorders  of 
time." 

Mr.  Murray  was  a  philanthropist  in  the  justest 
and  most  extensive  sense  of  the  word.  His  be- 
nevolence was  universal,  not  confined  to  any 
nation,  sect,  or  party.  It  took  in  the  whole 
human  race,  of  every  clime  and  colour.  It  knew 
no  limits  but  the  limits  of  the  whole  creation. 

It  sprung  from  a  principle  of  duty  and  of  love,  to 
31 


226 

God  and  all  his  creatures.  It  did  not  exhaust 
itself  in  mere  sentiment  or  feeling:  but  diffused 
its  benign  influence  over  his  character  and  con- 
duct. He  promoted,  by  all  the  means  in  his 
power,  the  welfare  and  improvement  of  mankind. 
He  took  a  deep  interest  in  the  success  of  various 
public  institutions,  designed  to  serve  the  cause 
of  religion  and  humanity,  particularly  the  Bible 
society  and  the  African  institution ;  and  he  con- 
tributed largely  according  to  his  means,  though 
sometimes  anonymously,  to  their  support.  By 
his  writings,  by  his  life  and  conversation,  by  the 
encouragement  which  he  gave  not  only  to  public 
but  to  private  endeavours,  of  a  benevolent  and 
religious  nature,  he  promoted,  in  an  eminent 
degree,  the  general  diffusion  of  the  spirit  of  Chris- 
tianity. The  good  seed  which  was  intrusted  to 
his  care,  he  cast  upon  a  wide  extent  of  land :  the 
abundant  harvest  which  it  has  produced,  and 
which,  I  trust,  it  will  long  continue  to  produce, 
will,  probably,  be  fully  made  known  to  him  in 
the  world  to  come. 

His  acts  of  private  charity  were  innumerable : 
indeed,  many  of  them  were  known  only  to  him- 
self and  his  wife,  and  tq  those  who  were  the  ob- 
jects of  them.  All  his  favours  were  rendered 
doubly  acceptable  even  to  the  poorest  persons, 
by  the  civility,  kindness,  or  tenderness,  with 
which  they  were  bestowed.  The  profit  which 


227 

he  derived  from  his  various  publications,  was 
uniformly  devoted  to  benevolent  purposes,  and 
afforded  him  a  considerable  fund  of  charity.  But 
long  before  he  received  any  assistance  from  this 
source,  he  was  distinguished  by  his  beneficence : 
he  gave  much  alms  ;  he  distributed  books  of  pi- 
ety; and  he  contributed  in  various  ways, to  render 
more  comfortable  many  persons  in  straitened  cir- 
cumstances. From  the  commencement  of  his  re- 
sidence at  Holdgate,  till  his  decease,  he  paid,  an- 
nually, for  the  schooling  of  several  poor  children 
in  his  neighbourhood ;  which,  before  the  general 
establishment  of  Sunday  and  other  schools,  was 
a  peculiarly  acceptable  and  useful  charity. 

By  his  great  abilities  and  application,  and  his 
respectable  family  connexions,  he  had,  through 
the  blessing  of  Providence,  acquired,  early  in 
life,  a  portion  of  this  world's  goods  amply  ade- 
quate to  his  own  moderate  wants  and  wishes,  and 
those  of  his  wife :  the  overplus  he  devoted  to  the 
service  of  God  and  man.  Nay,  I  think  it  may 
be  said,  he  dedicated  all  he  had  to  the  Lord;  his 
fortune,  his  time,  his  talents.  His  house  was 
the  seat  of  simplicity,  piety,  and  benevolence. 
It  was  abundantly  supplied  with  every  thing 
necessary  for  the  comfortable  accommodation  of 
its  inhabitants,  and  of  visiters;  but  there  was 
nothing  for  show,  or  mere  ornament,  From 


228 

taste,  as  well  as  principle,  Mr.  Murray  was  averse 
to  an  ostentatious  or  luxurious  mode  of  living. 

His  income,  independently  of  the  profit  of  his 
publications,  scarcely  at  any  time  exceeded  five 
or  six  hundred  pounds  a  year.  With  this  income, 
he  was  hospitable  arid  generous ;  he  lived  in 
a  plain  way  indeed,  but  so  respectably,  and  with 
so  high  a  character  for  benevolence,  that  he  was 
generally  esteemed  rich. — He  frequently  ac- 
knowledged as  one  of  the  blessings  of  Provi- 
dence, that  from  his  first  establishment  in  life,  he 
had  always  had  the  means  of  living  with  comfort 
and  respectability. 

His  external  manners  were  truly  pleasing. 
He  was  affable  and  courteous  in  his  address  ; 
mild,  yet  dignified  in  his  demeanour.  His  un- 
affected civility  and  kindness  readily  won  their 
way  to  the  heart.  Though  a  valetudinarian 
during  the  greater  part  of  his  life,  his  personal 
habits  were  those  of  uncommon  delicacy  and 
decorum. 

His  appearance  was  noble  and  prepossessing. 
He  was  tall  and  well  proportioned ;  and  rather 
stout.  His  complexion  was  dark,  and  somewhat 
ruddy :  it  did  not  exhibit  that  sickly  appear- 
ance which  might  have  been  expected  from  his 
general  debility,  and  long  confinement.  His 
forehead  was  open,  expansive,  and  rather  ele- 
vated. His  features  were  regular.  The  profile 


229 

of  his  face,  if  not  handsome,  was  strikingly  noble 
and  pleasing.  The  general  impression  of  his 
countenance  indicated  at  once  the  elevation  of 
his  mind,  and  the  sweetness  of  his  disposition. 
When  he  received  and  welcomed  any  stranger, 
or  visiter,  for  whom  he  felt  particular  respect  or 
regard,  his  countenance  beamed  with  increased 
dignity  and  sweetness ;  his  eyes  sparkled  with 
benevolent  animation,  and  a  smile  played  on  his 
lips:  his  whole  appearance  and  manner,  be- 
spoke  instantaneously  and  powerfully,  superior 
intelligence  sweetly  tempered  by  superior  good- 
ness and  benignity.  The  effect  produced  on  the 
mind  of  the  beholder,  though  often  felt,  can 
scarcely  be  described :  it  was  a  mingled  sensa- 
tion of  admiration,  love,  and  reverence.  Some 
have  said  after  their  first  introduction  to  him, 
that  his  aspect  and  demeanour,  together  with  the 
purity  and  sanctity  of  his  character,  recalled  to 
their  minds  the  idea  of  the  apostles  and  other 
holy  men ;  who,  in  the  early  ages  of  Christianity, 
were,  with  a  large  measure  of  grace,  redeemed 
from  the  world,  and  dedicated  to  the  service  of 
God  and  religion. 


230 
CHAPTER  III. 

REMARKS    ON  THE  AUTHOR'S  VARIOUS  PUBLICATIONS. 

BEING  well  acquainted  with  the  publications 
of  Mr.  Murray,  and  having  had  peculiar  oppor- 
tunities of  knowing  their  merits,  and  the  views 
of  the  author,  I  presume  that  a  few  remarks  on 
them,  both  general  and  particular,  will  not  be 
unacceptable  to  the  reader.  They  are  a  tribute 
which  seems  due  to  my  departed  friend,  for  his 
meritorious  exertions  to  advance  the  interests  of 
religion  and  literature ;  and  they  may  be  the 
means  of  attracting  attention  to  some  excellences 
of  design  or  execution,  which  might  otherwise 
have  been  passed  over  unobserved,  or  with  less 
consideration  than  they  deserve. 

It  is  a  striking  recommendation  of  these  works, 
that  they  have  had  a  considerable  influence,  in 
promoting  the  correct  and  chaste  education  of 
young  persons.  The  strain  of  piety  and  virtue, 
and  the  elegant  taste,  which  pervade  them,  have 
had  happy  effects,  in  forming  the  minds  of  young 
persons  who  have  studied  them ;  and  in  produ- 
cing, or  expanding,  a  similar  spirit,  in  the  publi- 
cations since  introduced  into  seminaries.  The 
author  was  very  strongly  impressed  with  the  im~ 


231 

portance  of  a  guarded  education  of  youth :  and 
he  thought  that  if  sound  principles  of  piety  and 
virtue,  were  constantly  presented  to  them,  and 
happily  incorporated  with  the  elements  of  lite- 
rature, the  effect  would  be  incalculably  greater 
than  most  persons  are  apt  to  imagine.  This  sen- 
timent induced  him  to  believe,  that  he  could  not 
better  employ  his  time,  or  render  a  greater  ser- 
vice to  society,  than  by  composing  works  of  edu- 
cation, in  which  learning  and  knowledge  should 
go  hand  in  hand  with  moral  and  religious  in- 
struction. This  design  he  has  most  successfully 
accomplished  :  and  the  universal  approbation 
which  it  has  obtained,  is  a  very  pleasing  proof 
of  the  importance  and  usefulness  of  his  writings. 
He  had  great  satisfaction  in  reflecting  on  the 
moral  effects  which  his  works  are  calculated  to 
produce ;  and  that  none  of  them  contains  a  senti- 
ment capable  of  giving  him  pain  in  the  retrospect 
of  life. — He  has,  I  trust,  planted,  and  he  will  con- 
tinue to  plant,  in  the  minds  of  a  long  succession 
of  young  readers  and  students,  principles  and 
virtues,  which  will  support  and  animate  them  in 
every  period  of  this  life ;  and  which  may,  in- 
deed,  have  a  great  influence  on  their  happiness 
in  an  other  world. 

Mr.  Murray's  grammatical  works  possess  dis- 
tinguished merit,  both  as  to  matter  and  arrange- 
ment. He  has  introduced  into  this  branch  of 


232 

science  great  simplicity  and  perspicuity.  And 
since  these  works  have  appeared,  a  subject  which 
was  before  generally  considered  as  dry  and  unin- 
teresting, to  young  persons  especially,  has  be- 
come very  popular,  and  is  now  almost  univer- 
sally studied  and  relished.  To  render  our  native 
tongue  an  object  of  peculiar  attention ;  to  excite 
a  general  desire  to  acquire  the  knowledge  of  it ; 
and  to  facilitate  that  acquisition  ;  reflect  not  a 
little  credit  on  the  productions  of  our  author. 

It  is  an  additional  recommendation  of  his  pub- 
lications, that  they  all  have  the  same  objects  in 
view,  are  intimately  connected,  and  naturally  in- 
troduce one  an  other.  The  subsequent  works 
generally  illustrate  and  enforce  the  principles  of 
those  which  precede.  To  instil  into  the  youth- 
ful mind  the  love  of  piety  and  virtue;  to  infuse 
into  it  sentiments  of  importance  on  topics  of  an 
interesting  nature;  and  to  excite  a  taste  for 
judicious  composition,  arid  a  correct  and  elegant 
style ;  are  the  objects  which  are  constantly  aim- 
ed at,  in  all  these  literary  productions.  They 
may,  therefore,  be  properly  considered  as  form- 
ing a  little  code  of  important  elementary  instruc- 
tion, adapted  to  the  varied  years  and  capacities 
of  young  persons ;  and  may,  with  confidence,  be 
put  into  their  hands. 

It  may  not  be  improper  to  observe,  that  our 
author  has  been  of  considerable  use  too,  in  pro- 


233 

rooting  the  printing  of  works  of  education,  with 
accuracy  and  neatness ;  on  good  paper,  with  a 
clear  type,  and  in  a  fair,  open  manner.  All  his 
publications,  from  the  first  to  the  last  of  them, 
have  appeared  in  this  very  proper  and  attractive 
form.*  He  thought  it  was  of  no  small  impor- 
tance in  the  business  of  education ;  and  his 
practice,  in  this  respect,  has  been  successfully 
imitated. 

His  publications  are  entitled  to  commendatory 
notice,  on  account  of  their  negative  as  well  as 
their  positive  merit.  Indeed,  their  freedom  from 
every  thing  objectionable,  constitutes  one  of 
their  most  solid  recommendations.  There  is  in 
them  no  expression  or  sentiment  of  an  indelicate 
nature;  nothing  which  tends  to  vitiate  taste,  or 
undermine  principle ;  nothing  that  is  vulgar  or 
frivolous,  eccentric  or  dubious ;  nor  is  there,  on 
the  other  hand,  any  thing  too  nice,  critical,  or 
refined,  for  general  use  and  acceptance.  Mr. 

*  It  must,  in  justice,  be  observed,  that  the  typography  of 
Mr.  Murray's  works,  reflects  credit,  not  only  on  the  author, 
but  on  the  printers,  Messrs.  Wilson  and  Co.  of  York;  who 
were  also  publishers,  and,  in  part,  proprietors  of  these  works. 
Their  extensive  printing  establishment,  only  about  a  mile  dis- 
tant from  the  residence  of  Mr.  Murray ;  the  ability,  prompti- 
tude, and  obligingness,  with  which  they  promoted  his  views  ; 
were  particularly  satisfactory  to  him,  and  afforded  him  great 
facility  and  accommodation,  in  the  ordering  and  managing  of 
his  various  publications. 

32 


234 

Murray  aims  at  nothing  which  he  does  not  ac- 
complish ;  nor  does  he  aim  at  any  thing,  which 
is  not  worth  accomplishing.  His  hooks  are  a 
considerable  and  an  acknowledged  improvement 
on  all  existing  works  of  the  same  nature.  He 
does  not  pursue  ideal  or  imaginary  perfection ; 
he  accommodates  his  works  to  the  tastes  and 
capacities  of  young  persons,  for  whom  they  are 
chiefly  designed,  and  to  the  present  state  of 
society  and  literature. 

The  Christian  Observer,  in  noticing  his  octavo 
Grammar,  says  :  "  We  are  happy  to  bear  testi- 
mony that  none  of  the  sentences  and  extracts 
appear  to  be  selected  with  relation  to  the  pecu- 
liar creed  of  the  writer."  With  equal  truth  it 
may  be  said,  that  our  author's  other  publications 
are  clear  of  any  expressions  or  sentiments,  pecu- 
liar to  the  society  of  which  he  was  a  member. 
He  made  it  a  point,  whilst  he  was  writing  for 
the  benefit  of  readers  in  general,  to  avoid  intro- 
ducing, in  any  shape,  the  tenets  of  a  particular 
sect;  or  any  thing  which  could  be  supposed  to 
relate  to  those  tenets.  And  for  this  judicious 
care  arid  liberality,  he  has  been  much  and  de- 
servedly commended.  At  the  same  time,  it 
must  be  observed  that  he  avoided  introducing 
any  thing  inconsistent  with,  or  contrary  to,  the 
tenets  of  the  sect  to  which  he  belonged;  so  that, 
whilst  his  works  have  received  the  approbation 


235 

of  the  public  in  general,  they  have  been  no  less 
highly  appreciated  by  the  members  of  his  own 
society. 

The  preceding  observations  on  Mr.  Murray's 
works,  are  supported  and  confirmed  by  the  opin- 
ions of  the  public  critics,  and  of  various  other 
writers.  A  statement  of  some  of  these  opinions, 
may  not  improperly  be  adduced  on  the  present 
occasion. 

The  British  Critic  contains  the  following  re- 
marks :  "Our  pages  bear  ample  testimony,  both 
to  the  ability  and  diligence  of  Mr.  Murray. 
His  different  publications  evince  much  sound 
judgment  and  good  sense  ;  and  his  Selections  are 
very  well  calculated  to  answer  the  intended  pur- 
pose." 

"  This  author,"  says  the  Christian  Observer, 
"  deserves  much  praise  and  encouragement  for 
the  pains  he  has  taken  in  purifying  books  of  in- 
struction ;  and  his  English  Grammar  will  estab- 
lish his  character  as  a  writer  in  this  important 
department  of  literature." 

The  Eclectic  Review  observes,  that  "Mr. 
Murray's  exertions  are  directed  to  one  of  the 
noblest  objects.  They  are  judicious,  unremitted, 
and,  we  rejoice  to  add,  particularly  acceptable 
to  the  public.  His  works  are  distinguished  from 
the  mass  of  school  books,  by  a  correct  style,  a, 


236 

refined  taste,  and  especially  by  a  vigilant  sub- 
servience to  morality  and  religion." 

Thu  Anti-jacobin  Review  gives  tbe  following 
very  ample  recommendation :  "  The  principle 
upon  which  all  the  publications  of  Mr.  Murray, 
for  the  instruction  of  the  rising  generation  are 
founded,  is  such  as  gives  him  an  unquestionable 
claim  to  public  protection.  The  man  who  blends 
religion  and  morals  with  the  elements  of  scien- 
tific knowledge,  renders  an  eminent  service  to 
society ;  and  where  ability  of  execution  is  added 
to  excellence  of  design,  as  in  the  present  case, 
the  claim  becomes  irresistible." 

In  the  American  Review  and  Literary  Journal 
is  the  following  eulogium  on  Mr.  Murray's  works: 
"  Mr.  Murray's  Grammar,  as  well  as  his  other 
publications,  has  received  the  uniform  approba- 
tion of  literary  characters  and  journalists.  We 
do  not  hesitate  warmly  to  recommend  them  to 
the  instructers  of  youth  in  every  part  of  the 
United  States,  as  eminently  conducive  to  pure 
morality  and  religion,  and  to  the  acquisition  of 
a  correct  and  elegant  style.  They  deserve  to 
take  place  of  all  other  works  of  the  same  kind." 

Dr.  Miller  in  his  "  Retrospect  of  the  Eigh- 
teenth Century,"  observes  that  "  Mr.  Lindley 
Murray,  by  his  English  Grammar,  and  by  several 
other  publications  connected  with  it,  and  design- 
ed as  auxiliaries  to  its  principal  purpose,  has  be- 


237 

come  entitled  to  the  gratitude  of  every  friend  to 
English  literature,  and  to  true  virtue." 

Mr.  Walker,  author  of  a  judicious  and  highly 
approved  Pronouncing  Dictionary,  and  of  various 
other  works,  has,  in  his  "  Elements  of  Elocution," 
and  in  his  "  Outlines  of  English  Grammar,"  borne 
a  very  striking  testimony  to  the  merits  of  our  au- 
thor. "Mr.  Murray's  Grammar,  and  Selection 
of  lessons  for  reading,  are  the  best  in  the  English 
language."-r-"  I  need  not  acquaint  the  public  with 
the  merits  and  success  of  Lindley  Murray's 
Grammar;  which  seems  to  have  superseded  ev- 
ery other.  Indeed,  when  we  consider  the  plain, 
simple  mode  of  instruction  he  has  adopted ;  the 
extent  of  observation  he  has  displayed ;  and  the 
copious  variety  of  illustration  he  has  added;  we 
shall  not  wonder  that  his  Grammar  has  been  so 
universally  applauded." 

The  letters  which  Mr.  Murray  received,  at  an 
early  period  of  the  publication  of  his  works, 
from  a  celebrated  writer  on  education,  and  on 
other  important  subjects,  contain  the  following 
passages:  "You  appear  to  have  simplified 
Grammar  beyond  any  of  your  precursors.  I  am 
also  better  pleased  with  your  English  Reader, 
than  with  any  compilation  I  have  ever  seen. — I 
am  happy  to  see  you  so  carefully  guarding  the 
elements  of  literature,  and  fencing  off  the  ob- 
trusion of  any  immoral  author,  or  corrupt  senti- 


238 

merit." — "  We  are  both,  I  trust,  co-operators  in 
the  same  great  cause,  that  of  impressing  young 
minds  with  right  principles,  as  well  as  keeping 
out  of  their  way,  what  would  serve  only  to  cor- 
rupt and  deprave  them.  Preoccupying  the 
ground,  by  safe,  early  instruction,  of  various 
kinds,  and  supplying,  in  some  measure,  their 
early  literary  wants,  you,  I  trust,  will  be  enabled 
so  far  to  form  their  minds  to  virtue  and  religion, 
that  they  will  reject  from  taste,  as  well  as  avoid 
from  principle,  the  destructive,  and  also  the  vain 
and  idle  compositions,  to  which  so  much  youth- 
ful time  is  unthinkingly  sacrificed. — I  never  neg- 
lect an  opportunity,  when  it  is  fairly  offered,  of 
bearing  my  testimony  to  your  works;  and  I 
have  never  heard  them  named  by  any  one  into 
whose  hands  they  have  fallen,  but  with  respect 
and  approbation.  They  will,  I  doubt  riot,  more 
and  more  make  their  way :  and,  as  they  are  more 
known,  will  be  generally  adopted." 

An  other  highly  respectable  writer  on  educa- 
tion, expresses  himself  in  a  letter  to  our  author, 
in  the  following  terms :  "  You  must  allow  me 
to  observe,  that  no  man  who  feels  as  an  English- 
man or  a  Christian,  can  contemplate,  without  the 
highest  satisfaction,  the  very  extensive  circula- 
tion which  your  works  have  obtained.  It  is 
books  of  this  description,  which  the  last  chapter 
of  my  Essay  was  designed  to  recommend  to  our 


239 

schools :  and  I  still  think,  that  on  the  use  or 
neglect  of  them,  depend,  in  no  small  degree,  the 
principles  of  the  rising  generation,  and  conse- 
quently our  permanence  and  prosperity  as  a 
nation." 

A  letter  to  Mr.  Murray  from  the  president  of 
one  of  the  American  colleges,  contains  the  follow- 
ing sentiments :  "  Your  grammatical  works  have 
always  been  esteemed  by  me,  as  the  most  valu- 
able yet  published ;  and  hence,  I  have  never 
ceased  to  recommend  the  careful  study  of  them 
to  the  youth  of  this  college.  The  advantage 
which  both  students  and  scholars  have  derived 
from  such  a  study,  has  been  great.  The  knowl- 
edge, and  the  proper  use,  of  our  own  language, 
have  become  an  indispensable  acquirement; 
and  with  the  lights  which  you  have  held  forth, 
that  valuable  acquirement  is  accessible  to  every 
one.  Too  long  had  the  study  of  our  own  lan- 
guage yielded  to  that  of  Latin  and  Greek,  or  of 
some  modern  language.  You  have  the  merit  of 
producing  a  reform  in  this  respect ;  for  which 
every  friend  of  literature  owes  to  you  the  great- 
est obligation." 

A  distinguished  and  elegant  author,  having 
occasion  to  write  to  Mr.  Murray,  on  a  subject 
unconnected  with  his  works,  embraced  the  op- 
portunity of  expressing  his  opinion  respecting 
them.  "  I  can  not,"  says  he,  "  deny  myself  the 


240 

pleasure  of  offering  you,  upon  this  occasion,  my 
best  thanks,  as  a  part  of  the  public,  for  the  many 
judicious  and  truly  valuable  works,  with  which 
you  have  enriched  our  language.  The  rising 
generation,  and  those  who  are  concerned  in  their 
superintendence,  are  greatly  your  debtors  :  and, 
if  to  have  been  made  useful,  under  God,  in 
promoting  sound  learning,  pure  religion,  and 
liberal  sentiments,  be  (as  it  certainly  is)  a  ground 
of  satisfactory  reflection,  you  are  entitled  to  that 
enjoyment,  in  no  ordinary  degree." 

I  shall  only  add  an  extract  from  an  other  letter 
to  Mr.  Murray,  on  the  subject  of  his  works.  It 
was  written  by  a  respectable  and  learned  clergy- 
man, with  whom  he  had  been  acquainted  in 
early  life.  "  After  your  performances  have 
passed  the  ordeal  of  public  criticism,  and  receiv- 
ed the  approbation  of  all  the  British  and  Ameri- 
can Reviews,  it  would  be  presumption  in  me  to 
give  an  opinion,  or  to  add  my  feeble  voice  to  the 
common  plaudit.  Indeed,  I  do  not  recollect  any 
publications,  that  have  so  entirely  escaped  cen- 
sure, and  so  universally  obtained  commendation. 
I  rejoice  much  in  their  extensive  circulation, 
because  they  will  not  only  improve  the  rising 
generation,  in  the  knowledge  of  grammar,  and 
in  correct  reading,  writing,  and  composition; 
but  strongly  impress  on  their  tender  minds  the 
principles  of  morality  and  religion,  and  make 


241 

them  not  only  better  scholars,  but  better  men. 
If  generally  introduced  (as  they  will  be)  into  our 
public  schools  and  seminaries,  they  will  counter- 
act the  baneful  effects  of  some  late  licentious 
productions;  and  furnish  youth  with  an  armour, 
which  will  imbolden  and  enable  them  to  repel, 
through  life,  the  weapons  of  vice  and  infidelity." 

Having  made  these  general  observations  on 
the  works  of  Mr.  Murray,  I  proceed  to  consider 
their  merits  individually. 

The  first  of  his  publications  was,  the  POWER 
of  RELIGION  on  the  MIND. 

This  work,  as  he  often  observed,  afforded  him 
the  most  heartfelt  satisfaction.  Though  it  has 
not  procured  him  the  most  literary  reputation, 
it  was  his  favourite  performance.  It  was  viewed 
by  him  in  this  light,  because  he  conceived  that  it 
was  more  immediately  adapted  than  any  of  his 
other  works,  to  lead  the  readers  to  a  virtuous 
and  happy  life,  and  to  excite  in  them  an  ardent 
desire,  and  earnest  preparation,  for  that  state  of 
eternal  felicity  which  is  the  great  end  of  their 
being.  On  his  own  mind,  the  lives  of  good  men, 
and  the  efficacy  of  religion  in  the  closing 
scene  of  life,  had  made  a  happy  impression. 
The  elevated  hopes  and  lively  faith  of  pious 
persons,  in  their  dying  moments,  who  are  just 
entering  into  the  regions  of  glory,  where  all 
their  virtuous  conflicts  will  be  infinitely  over- 

33 


242 

paid,  are,  indeed,  of  the  most  consoling  and 
animating  nature.  They  strengthen  confidence 
in  religion;  and  encourage  perseverance  in  its 
paths.  That  the  author  of  this  book  should  be 
desirous  of  exciting  in  the  breasts  of  others,  the 
encouragements  to  piety  and  virtue,  which  he 
had  himself  felt  from  contemplating  exalted 
goodness,  was  natural  and  laudable;  and  he 
has,  in  consequence,  produced  a  valuable  work, 
which  has  been  much  read,  and  highly  com- 
mended. Besides  the  proof  of  approbation,  which 
the  sale  of  seventeen  editions,  some  of  them 
consisting  of  three  or  four  thousand  copies,  has 
afforded,  the  author  received  very  gratifying 
information  of  several  individuals  who  had  been 
excited  to  virtue,  or  strengthened  in  a  religious 
course  of  life,  by  the  perusal  of  this  publication. 
From  many  persons  of  piety  and  learning,  he 
also  received  letters,  which  expressed,  in  strong 
terms,  their  approbation  of  the  performance ; 
and  their  opinion  that  it  is  happily  calculated 
to  counteract  the  growing  spirit  of  infidelity 
and  irreligion. 

The  work  is,  in  every  point  of  view,  well 
executed.  The  subjects  have  been  judiciously 
selected  from  the  mass  of  biography,  consisting 
generally  of  distinguished  individuals  of  differ- 
ent periods,  countries,  and  professions ;  whose 
sentiments  would  probably  be  listened  to  with 


243 

reverence.  An  historical  sketch  of  each  person 
is  given,  sufficient  to  make  the  reader  acquainted 
with  him,  and  to  give  an  interest  to  his  testi- 
mony on  behalf  of  religion.  This  individual 
testimony  does  not  embrace  a  great  number  and 
variety  of  expressions,  which  might  be  tedious 
to  many  readers:  it  is  confined  to  a  few  striking 
and  important  declarations.  And  yet  the  senti- 
ments of  each  person,  when  united  together, 
form  a  considerable  body  of  religious  instruction, 
copiously  varied,  and  communicated  in  the  most 
weighty  and  impressive  manner.  The  facts 
stated  in  the  work  are  well  authenticated ;  the 
arrangement  is  judicious ;  and  the  language  is 
simple  and  correct. 

In  characterizing  this  little  volume,  the 
Monthly  Reviewers,  with  great  propriety,  ob- 
serve, that  "Mr.  Murray  has  furnished  an 
interesting  collection  of  testimonies;  and  we 
wonder  not,  that  a  work  so  instructive  and 
amusing,  as  well  as  impressive,  should  have  been 
generally  patronised.  It  is  a  book  which  may 
be  read,  with  profit,  by  persons  in  all  situations." 
— The  Guardian  of  Education  also  speaks  in 
high  terms  of  the  publication  :  "  This  work,  in 
its  present  enlarged  state,  forms,  in  our  opinion, 
one  of  the  best  books  that  can  be  put  into  the 
hands  of  young  people.  The  subject  is  grave 
and  important ;  but  Mr.  Murray  has  rendered  it 


244 

highly  interesting  and  engaging,  by  a  judicious 
selection  of  anecdotes  and  examples ;  which,  by 
the  intermixture  of  pious  reflections,  he  teaches 
the  reader  to  apply  to  his  own  benefit." 

Mr.  Murray  considered  the  extensive  circula- 
tion of  this  work,  and  the  very  general  approba- 
tion which  it  has  received,  as  a  pleasing  evi- 
dence, that  a  regard  for  piety  and  virtue,  for 
true  practical  religion,  is  sincere  and  lively ;  and 
prevails  in  a  much  greater  degree,  than  some 
gloomy  and  unfavourable  circumstances  would 
induce  us,  at  the  first  view,  to  suppose. — The 
success  of  this  performance,  and  the  good  which 
it  was  the  means  of  producing,  were  considera- 
tions of  the  most  soothing  nature  to  the  heart  of 
the  author;  and  excited  his  gratitude  to  God, 
that  he  had  been  made  of  some  use  in  promoting 
the  best  interests  of  mankind. 

The  next  work  which  Mr.  Murray  presented 
to  the  public,  was  his  ENGLISH  GRAMMAR. 

This  is  a  performance  of  distinguished  merit. 
"  It  shows,"  as  one  of  his  literary  correspondents 
justly  observes,  "an  extensive  knowledge  of  the 
subject;  and,  what  is  seldom  joined  with  it,  a 
judicious  distinction  between  the  speculative  and 
the  practical,  the  curious  and  the  useful  parts  of 
grammar." 

The  author  has  modestly  called  this  work  a 
compilation.  But  the  critical  and  attentive 


245 

reader  of  it  knows,  that  besides  its  great  im- 
provement in  the  arrangement  of  the  various 
subjects,  and  the  logical  division  of  its  parts,  it 
contains  many  highly  ingenious  positions  that 
are  perfectly  original.  In  particular,  the  discus- 
sions, which  are  dispersed  through  the  book,  and 
intended  to  illustrate  and  support  the  author's 
grammatical  system  in  general,  as  well  as  to 
defend  some  special  points,  will  be  allowed  to 
be  not  only  new,  but  to  contain  much  acute  and 
satisfactory  reasoning.  His  views  of  the  cases  of 
English  nouns,  and  the  moods  and  tenses  of  our 
verbs,  are  so  judicious,  and  so  consonant  with  the 
nature  and  idiom  of  our  language,  that  teachers 
almost  universally  acquiesce  in  the  propriety  of 
his  arrangements. 

The  definitions  and  the  rules  throughout  the 
Grammar,  are  expressed  with  neatness  and  per- 
spicuity. They  are  as  short  and  comprehensive 
as  the  nature  of  the  subject  would  admit :  and 
they  are  well  adapted  both  to  the  understanding 
and  the  memory  of  young  persons.  The  mode 
of  parsing  which  our  author  recommends,  is 
admirably  calculated  to  confirm  and  perfect  the 
scholar  in  what  he  has  previously  learned ;  and 
to  enable  him  thoroughly  to  understand,  arid 
readily  to  apply,  the  rules,  both  principal  and 
subordinate. 


246 

It  may  truly  be  said,  that  the  language  in 
every  part  of  the  work,  is  simple,  correct,  and 
perspicuous;  and,  consequently,  well  calculated 
to  improve  the  taste  and  habits  of  the  student,  in 
the  cultivation  of  his  native  tongue.  In  an 
elementary  work,  it  is  of  consequence  that  no 
awkward  or  vulgar  expressions,  no  harsh  or 
irregular  constructions,  should  occur.  In  the 
Grammar,  at  present  under  review,  the  reverse 
of  all  these  imperfections,  is  very  conspicuous. 

A  particular  recommendation  of  this  Gram- 
mar, is,  that  it  embraces  all  the  parts  of  the 
science  ;  and  gives  to  each  of  them  that  atten- 
tion which  its  relative  importance  demands. 
The  student,  by  this  means,  surveys  the  whole 
of  his  subject ;  and  derives  the  advantage  which 
results  from  such  a  connected  view,  at  the  same 
time  that  he  is  not  detained,  nor  disgusted,  by 
too  prolix  a  discussion  of  any  particular  part. 
The  author  has,  with  great  propriety,  distin- 
guished by  a  larger  letter,  all  the  rules  and 
observations  which  are  of  primary  importance ; 
and,  by  this  means,  a  judicious  outline,  or  general 
view,  of  the  more  prominent  parts  of  the  subject, 
is  happily  presented  to  the  student.  When  this 
comprehensive  view  has  been  taken,  the  subor- 
dinate points,  contained  in  the  smaller  type,  will 
be  perused  to  the  greatest  advantage.  Many  of 
these  explain  the  principles,  on  which  the  rules 


247 


and  positions  are  founded;  showing  their  origin 
to  be  in  the  constitution  of  the  human  mind,  or 
in  the  reason  and  nature  of  things ;  and,  so  far 
as  these  explanations  extend,  they  may  properly 
be  said  to  exhibit  the  philosophy  of  grammar. 
This  work  is  also  valuable,  for  its  occasional  re- 
ferences to  the  various  opinions  of  other  English 
grammarians;  and  for  the  comparisons  which  it 
often  institutes,  on  particular  points,  between 
the  English  and  other  languages.  And  yet 
the  author  has  studiously  avoided  every  thing 
that  tends  to  involve  in  obscurity,  the  subjects 
on  which  he  treats.  His  system  is  connected 
and  uniform;  his  plan  and  materials  are  such  as 
are  adapted  to  the  present  structure  of  the  lan- 
guage ;  and  his  reasonings  are  calculated  to  pre- 
serve its  regularity,  and  prevent  useless  and 
unwarrantable  innovations.  In  these  points  of 
view,  this  Grammar  is  entitled  to  high  estima- 
tion. An  approved  and  established  system  of 
grammatical  rules  and  principles,  judiciously 
expressed  and  arranged,  according  to  which  the 
youth  of  our  country  are  educated,  and  which 
may  serve  as  a  general  standard  of  rectitude  on 
these  subjects,  is  certainly  a  great  and  national 
benefit;  and  entitles  the  author  to  the  respect 
and  gratitude  of  the  literary  world. 

The  Appendix  to  the  Grammar  is  introduced 
with  peculiar  propriety.     The  learner,  by  his 


248 


preceding  acquirements,  is  fully  prepared  to 
enter  upon  this  part  of  the  work.  It  will  not 
only  confirm  the  rules  of  construction  which  he 
has  already  learned;  but,  by  regular  transitions, 
it  will  lead  him  forward  to  the  principles  and 
practice  of  perspicuous  and  elegant  composition. 
The  rules  for  attaining  purity,  propriety,  and  pre- 
cision of  language,  both  with  regard  to  single 
words  and  phrases,  and  the  construction  of  sen- 
tences, are  exhibited  with  great  order  and  judg- 
ment; and  illustrated  by  a  variety  of  examples 
which  clearly  show  the  importance  and  useful- 
ness of  the  rules.  This  Appendix  is,  I  believe, 
generally  allowed  to  contain,  in  a  small  compass, 
a  greater  number  of  excellent  rules  and  princi- 
ples, with  happy  illustrations,  for  teaching  accu- 
rate and  elegant  composition,  than  is  to  be  found 
in  any  other  publication. 

The  Grammar  is  closed  by  a  sensible,  affec- 
tionate, and  truly  Christian  "  Address  to  young 
students,"  on  the  proper  application  of  their 
literary  attainments*  and  the  happiness  they 
would  find  hi  a  pious  and  virtuous  course  of 
life.  This  short  address,  especially  with  the  last 
additions  to  it,  contains  many  excellent  senti- 
ments and  admonitions;  and  it  is  expressed  in 
a  style  and  manner  well  adapted  to  make  serious 
and  lasting  impressions  on  the  minds  of  youth. 
It  is  fraught  with  just  and  elevated  views  of 


249 


learning  and  religion;  and  the  solicitude  of  the 
author,  that  the  young  persons  whom  he  ad- 
dresses, may  answer  the  great  end  of  their  ex- 
istence, both  here  and  hereafter,  can  not  fail  of 
disposing  their  minds  to  listen  with  reverence  to 
his  affectionate  recommendations.  This  address 
will,  I  doubt  not,  be  read  by  many  young  stu- 
dents with  a  lively  interest;  and  confirm  or  awa- 
ken in  them  an  attachment  to  the  cause  of  re- 
ligion and  virtue. 

Mr.  Murray's  Grammar  being  so  celebrated 
a  work,  and  so  extensively  circulated,  a  more 
particular  account  of  the  occasion  of  his  writing 
it,  than  is  given  in  his  Memoirs,  may  not  be  un- 
acceptable to  the  reader.  Some  of  his  friends 
established,  at  York,  a  school  for  the  guarded  ed- 
ucation of  young  females ;  which  was  continued 
for  several  years.  Mr.  Murray  strongly  recom- 
mended that  the  study  of  the*  English  language, 
should  form  a  prominent  part  of  instruction. 
The  young  persons  employed  as  the  first  teach- 
ers, not  being  sufficiently  qualified  in  this  respect, 
he  kindly  undertook  to  instruct  them  at  his 
own  house ;  and,  for  their  use,  he  made  some 
extracts  from  Blair,  Campbell,  and  other  writers, 
which  afterwards  formed  the  basis  of  the  Appen- 
dix to  his  English  Grammar.  By  these  young 
teachers,  he  was  much  importuned  to  write  an 
English  Grammar,  for  the  benefit  of  their  pupils, 

34 


250 


on  the  same  plan  of  simplicity,  clearness,  and 
regular  gradation,  which  he  had  pursued  in  his 
verbal  instructions.  Their  requests  were  sanc- 
tioned and  enforced,  by  the  superintendents  of 
the  school,  and  by  some  of  his  other  friends:  he 
was  at  length  induced  to  comply.  In  preparing 
the  work,  and  consenting  to  its  publication,  he 
had  no  expectation  that  it  would  be  used,  except 
by  the  school  for  which  it  was  designed,  and  two 
or  three  other  schools,  conducted  by  persons 
who  were  also  his  friends. 

Such  was  the  humble  origin  of  his  Grammar; 
which  I  have  often  heard  him  mention,  even 
amongst  literary  persons,  with  great  humility, 
simplicity,  and  candour.  The  first  public  recom- 
mendations of  the  work  which  he  read,  gave  him 
the  most  lively  joy,  accompanied  by  some  degree 
of  surprise.  The  success  of  the  Grammar  natu- 
rally led  to  the  publication  of  other  works,  in 
which  general  benefit  and  extensive  circulation 
Were  contemplated.  The  occasion  of  his  writing 
the  "  Power  of  Religion,"  is  mentioned  in  his 
Memoirs.  It  was  designed  merely  for  his  own 
distribution  amongst  his  friends  and  neighbours. 
Thus  his  commencing  author,  did  not  arise  from 
any  overweening  conceit  of  his  own  abilities, 
nor  from  any  desire  of  literary  fame,  or  even 
any  idea  that  he  could  attain  it;  but  from  a  dis- 
interested and  unfeigned  desire  to  do  good,  in 


251 

a  small  circle ;  to  disseminate  useful  knowledge, 
correct  literary  taste,  and  above  all,  moral  and 
religious  principles. — I  have  often  thought  that 
no  part  of  his  life  is  more  exemplary,  or  strik- 
ing, than  the  great  humility,  and  earnest  de- 
sire to  do  good,  with  which  he  began,  and  in- 
deed continued,  his  literary  career;  and  that 
the  eminent  success  which  attended  his  labours, 
may,  without  presumption  or  superstition,  be 
attributed,  in  great  measure,  to  the  blessing  of 
Providence  on  motives  of  action  so  pure,  so 
pious  and  benevolent. — The  excellence  of  his 
character  contributed  also  in  no  small  degree 
to  the  success  of  his  works :  his  kindness  made 
him  many  friends,  who  were  anxious,  from 
regard  to  him,  to  receive  and  circulate  them ; 
and  a  general  impression  very  justly  prevailed, 
that  whatever  proceeded  from  him  would  be 
distinguished  by  good  sense,  good  taste,  correct 
language,  and  the  soundest  principles  of  religion 
and  morality. 

The  next  works  which  were  published  by 
Mr.  Murray,  were  his  ENGLISH  EXERCISES  and 
KEY. 

The  Grammar  exhibits  the  principles  and  rules 
of  the  language  :  these  works  contain  most 
copious  examples  and  illustrations  of  the  rules, 
and  display  them  in  almost  every  possible 
variety.  They  give  more  extended  views  of 


252 

each  subject  than  are  found  in  the  Grammar,  or 
could  conveniently  have  been  there  introduced. 
The  great  diversity  of  these  illustrations  serves 
also,  in  many  instances,  as  substitutes  for  a  con- 
siderable number  of  minute  subordinate  rules, 
which  it  would  have  been  tedious  to  have  drawn 
out  into  regular  form. 

It  is  not  unusual  to  exhibit  grammatical  Eng- 
lish exercises,  in  the  most  coarse  and  vulgar  man- 
ner. The  errors  are  so  glaring,  that  learners  can 
scarcely  commit  them ;  and  they  are  often  so  ex- 
tremely awkward,  that  the  proper  words  and  con- 
struction can  not  easily  be  discovered.  They  are, 
in  short,  more  calculated  to  puzzle  and  mislead 
the  learner,  than  to  afford  him  any  instruction. 
The  author  of  these  Exercises  has  greatly  served 
the  cause  of  education,  by  the  judicious  manner 
in  which  they  are  executed.  Both  teachers  and 
pupils  are  under  no  small  obligation  to  him  for 
these  labours.  No  errors  are  admitted  into  his 
Exercises,  but  such  as  are  commonly  to  be  met 
with  in  respectable  writings  and  conversation : 
and,  for  this  reason,  the  Key  which  corrects  the 
erroneous  constructions,  will  render  these  books 
of  great  use  to  all  persons,  who  wish  to  express 
themselves  in  accurate  and  unexceptionable 
terms.  Some  parts  of  the  Exercises  and  Key 
are  indeed  adapted  to  young  learners;  but  many 
other  parts  of  them  are  calculated  for  the  im- 


provement  of  persons,  who  have  made  consider- 
able proficiency  in  the  study  of  the  language. 
These  books  have  consequently  been  found  well 
adapted  to  inculcate  and  exemplify  the  refine- 
ments and  peculiarities  of  the  English  tongue. 
They  possess  great  merit;  and  it  may  justly  be 
said  of  them,  in  the  words  of  the  Monthly  Re- 
view, that,  "  they  occupy,  with  distinguished 
excellence,a  most  important  place  in  the  science 
of  the  English  language ;  and  may  be  warmly 
recommended  to  the  teachers  of  schools,  as  well 
as  to  all  those  who  are  desirous  of  attaining  cor- 
rectness and  precision  in  their  native  tongue." 

A  peculiar  advantage  of  these  Exercises,  is, 
that  they  consist  almost  altogether  of  sentences 
which  inculcate  important  sentiments  respecting 
morality,  religion,  and  civil  life ;  all  of  which  as 
exhibited  in  the  Key,  are  expressed  in  the  most 
correct,  perspicuous,  and  easy  language.  The 
author  was  studious  to  select  illustrations  of  this 
nature ;  and,  by  this  means,  to  combine  every 
advantage  of  which  the  subject  is  capable.  It  is 
unnecessary  to  enlarge  on  the  benefits,  which 
Exercises  so  constructed  must  produce  to  the 
learner,  with  regard  to  expression,  taste,  and 
composition. 

These  exercises  furnish  to  the  student  a  very 
pleasing  mode  of  improving  himself  in  the  con- 
struction of  our  language.  In  surveying  the  in- 


254 

accurate  sentence,  his  ingenuity  is  exercised  in 
correcting  every  part  which  he  thinks  requires 
amendment :  and  on  a  reference  to  the  Key, 
either  by  his  teacher,  or  himself,  he  has  the  satis- 
faction of  perceiving  that  he  had  made  the  cor- 
rections properly,  or  of  knowing  the  points  in 
which  he  had  failed,  and  of  being  guarded,  in 
future,  against  errors  of  a  similar  nature.  And 
he  is  confirmed  in  the  propriety  of  these  cor- 
rections, by  turning  to  the  rules  in  the  Grammar, 
on  which  they  are  founded.  Improvement  thus 
acquired,  is  not  only  peculiarly  gratifying  to  an 
ingenious  mind,  but  must  be  impressive  and  per- 
manent. 

About  the  time  that  the  Exercises  and  Key 
appeared,  our  author  published  an  ABRIDGMENT 
of  his  Grammar. 

This  is  a  very  neat  and  judicious  little  work. 
It  is  calculated  for  two  purposes :  first,  to  con- 
vey a  competent  knowledge  of  grammar  to  those 
who  are  not  designed  to  make  an  extensive  pro- 
gress in  the  study ;  and  secondly,  to  serve  as  an 
Introduction  to  the  author's  larger  Grammar,  in 
those  schools  where  both  the  books  are  used. 
The  utility  of  this  work  has  been  abundantly 
evinced  by  the  very  extensive  sale  which  it  has 
had.  In  this  country,  about  forty-eight  thousand 
copies  have  been  annually  sold  for  many  years 
past;  and  I  believe  that  the  number  of  copies 


255 

sold,  from  the  first  publication  of  the  work  to  the 
present  time,  amounts  to  one  million. 

Our  author's  three  volumes  of  the  ENGLISH 
READER,  and  the  INTRODUCTION  and  SEQUEL  to 
it,  have  met  with  high  approbation  from  the 
public.  The  design  and  execution  of  these  vol- 
umes are  truly  excellent ;  and  well  adapted  to 
promote  their  professed  objects,  improvement  in 
the  art  of  reading,  and  storing  the  youthful  mind 
with  the  finest  moral  and  religious  sentiments. 
These  sentiments  possess  the  additional  merit 
of  being  so  happily  diversified,  as  to  comprise 
a  great  body  of  instruction  most  important  to 
young  persons.  As  the  pieces  which  form  these 
volumes,  are  taken  from  the  best  English  writers, 
the  composition  is,  of  course,  correct,  and  the 
language  finished  and  elegant.  The  benefit 
which  young  students  will  reap  from  the  perusal 
of  such  models  of  excellence,  early  and  impres- 
sively set  before  them,  can  not  be  duly  appre- 
ciated but  by  those  who  have  had  the  best  op- 
portunities to  reflect  on  the  subject.  The  com- 
piler has  selected,  with  the  utmost  care,  what  he 
conceived  to  be  particularly  adapted  to  engage 
the  youthful  mind,  and  to  present  to  it  the  most 
amiable  and  striking  views  of  piety  and  virtue. 
He  has  too  embraced  every  suitable  occasion  to 
exhibit  the  Christian  religion  in  the  most  at- 
tractive form;  and  to  recommend  to  the  serious 


256 

attention  of  young  persons  its  divine  and  deeply 
interesting  doctrines  and  precepts.  I  shall  close 
the  observations  on  these  three  volumes,  by  a 
short  extract  from  the  Monthly  Review.  "  We 
recommend  this  small  volume  (the  English 
Reader)  to  those  who  wish  to  attain,  without 
the  help  of  instructers,  the  important  advantages 
of  thinking  and  speaking  with  propriety.  We 
have  no  doubt  that  the  public  will  be  pleased 
with  the  additions  (the  Introduction  and  Sequel) 
to  both  the  fronts  of  the  original  building.  The 
whole  is  truly  useful,  and  well  arranged.  Dis- 
playing a  sound  judgment,  and  actuated  by  the 
purest  motives,  this  gentleman  is  indeed  entitled 
to  the  fullest  praise." 

Our  author's  two  French  publications,  the  IN- 
TRODUCTION AU  LECTEUR  FRANCOIS  and  the  LEC- 
TEUR  FRANCOIS,  are  highly  worthy  of  commend- 
ation. They  are,  in  a  peculiar  manner,  accept- 
able to  parents  and  teachers,  who  are  desirous 
that  their  children  and  pupils  should  acquire  a 
knowledge  of  the  French  language,  without  im- 
bibing a  spirit  of  frivolity,  or  lax  principles  of 
morality.  Chaste,  correct,  and  elegant,  these 
works  exhibit  fine  specimens  of  the  language;  and 
instruct  the  learner,  by  the  easiest  gradations, 
in  the  various  styles  of  the  best  French  writers. 
The  "  Preliminary  Rules  and  Observations,"  in 
the  "  Introduction  au  Lecteur  Francois,"  and  the 


257 

Appendix  to  that  work,  are  well  calculated  to 
facilitate  the  acquisition  of  the  French  lan- 
guage; and  that  not  in  a  superficial  manner, 
but  radically.  The  selections  in  both  volumes 
are  of  the  choicest  nature ;  and  forcibly  incul- 
cate sound  morality  and  religion,  adorned  with 
all  the  graces  of  language  and  composition. 
The  "Lecteur  Francois,"  in  particular,  is  a 
truly  classical  work ;  and  it  will,  doubtless,  be 
long  read  and  admired  by  persons  who  have  a 
a  taste  for  French  literature,  or  who'are  desir- 
ous of  improving  themselves  in  the  language. 
Correctness  and  accuracy  in  the  printing  of 
books  designed  to  teach  a  foreign  language,  are 
highly  desirable,  and  indeed  indispensable.  This 
advantage  the  works  in  question  possess  in  no 
ordinary  degree ;  both  with  respect  to  orthog- 
raphy and  accentuation. 

The  ENGLISH  SPELLING-BOOK  composed  by 
our  author,  though  it  is  a  small  volume,  is  a 
work  which  bears  the  marks  of  great  judgment 
and  ingenuity ;  and,  perhaps,  it  is  not  inferior 
in  point  of  ability  and  literary  execution,  to  any 
of  his  publications.  The  gradation  throughout 
the  work  is  easy  and  regular;  and  well  adapted 
to  the  progress  of  the  infant  understanding.  The 
advances  from  letters  to  syllables,  from  syllables 
to  words,  and  from  words  to  sentences,  are  car- 
ried on  by  almost  insensible  degrees.  The  first 
35 


lessons  of  spelling  are  of  the  simplest  nature,  and 
they  imperceptibly  slide  into  those  which  follow: 
the  reading  lessons  are  so  carefully  adjusted  as 
to  contain  no  words,  which  the  scholar  has  not 
previously  spelled.  The  sections  of  spelling  are 
constructed  and  arranged  in  such  a  manner,  as 
to  afford  great  assistance  in  acquiring  the  true 
pronunciation  both  of  letters  and  words.  The 
division  of  syllables  which  the  author  has  adopt- 
ed, and  his  rules  for  spelling,  are  consonant  to 
the  best  authorities,  and  to  the  analogy  of  the 
language.  The  more  advanced  reading  lessons 
are  admirably  calculated  to  attract  and  interest 
young  readers ;  as  well  as  to  impress  their  minds 
with  moral  and  religious  sentiments,  suited  to 
their  age  and  capacity.  Under  a  garb  of  great 
simplicity,  these  lessons  convey  an  uncommon 
portion  of  instruction,  adapted  to  children  in  all 
ranks  of  life. 

In  the  plan  and  execution  of  this  work,  the 
reader  who  is  skilled  in  the  subject,  will  find 
considerable  originality,  of  a  truly  useful  nature. 
And  I  believe,  that  the  more  accurately  this 
little  volume  is  examined,  the  more  it  will  be 
approved.  One  of  Mr.  Murray's  literary  corres- 
pondents speaks  of  it  in  the  following  terms:  "  It 
surpasses  every  elementary  work  of  the  kind,  in 
felicity  of  arrangement,  and  in  perspicuity,  com- 
prehensiveness, and  accuracy  of  information." 


259 

The  next  publication  of  our  author,  was  his 
ENGLISH  GRAMMAR,  in  two  volumes  octavo. 

It  comprises  the  Grammar,  Exercises,  and 
Key,  united  in  one  connected  and  uniform  sys- 
tem. The  first  volume  contains  the  principles 
and  rules  of  the  language,  which  are  amply  and 
most  judiciously  exemplified  in  the  second  vol- 
ume. These  exemplifications  are  of  so  great 
importance  to  the  clear  comprehension  of  the 
rules,  that  the  work  would  have  been  very  de- 
fective without  them.  The  two  volumes,  in 
their  present  state,  are  generally  acknowledged 
to  constitute  the  best  system  of  English  grammar, 
which  has  hitherto  appeared.  When  this  new 
form  of  our  author's  grammatical  works  was 
contemplated,  he  thought  it  afforded  a  proper 
occasion,  for  extending  and  improving  some  of 
the  principles  and  positions  contained  in  the 
duodecimo  Grammar;  and  he  has  done  this  very 
amply,  and  doubtless,  much  to  the  satisfaction 
of  those  who  possess  a  critical  knowledge  of  the 
subject.  Of  this  wTork  the  public  critics  have 
given  a  highly  favourable  character.  The 
"  Christian  Observers,"  in  particular,  speak  of  it, 
as  "  a  work  of  great  correctness  and  perfection :" 
and  recommend  it  to  teachers,  to  foreigners,  and 
to  young  persons  who  have  left  school.  A  dis- 
tinguished author,  in  a  letter  addressed  to  Mr. 
Murray,  expresses  the  following  sentiments  re* 


260 

specting  this  publication :  "  I  have  great  satis- 
faction in  congratulating  you  on  the  completion 
of  jour  system  of  English  Grammar.  The 
British  and  American  nations  owe  you  a  high 
obligation,  for  the  service  you  have  rendered  to 
English  literature,  by  your  learned  and  elaborate 
work.  You  may  safely  anticipate  the  gratitude 
of  a  long  succession  of  students  of  English 
Grammar,  in  both  hemispheres;  and  of  writers  in 
the  English  language,  who  will  recur  to  your 
work  as  a  standard  in  settling  the  principles, 
and  adjusting  the  niceties,  of  composition." — The 
work  has  already  gone  through  five  editions  in 
this  country ;  and  it  has  been  frequently  reprint- 
ed in  America. 

In  contemplating  the  different  publications  of 
Mr.  Murray,  on  grammar,  it  is  peculiarly  satis- 
factory to  observe,  how  happily  he  has  provided 
every  class  of  students  with  the  means  of  acquir- 
ing a  knowledge  of  their  native  language.  The 
Abridgment  is  calculated  for  the  minor  schools, 
and  for  those  who  use  it  as  introductory  to  the 
larger  work.  The  duodecimo  Grammar,  and  the 
Exercises  and  Key,  are  suited  to  academies,  and 
to  private  learners.  The  octavo  edition  claims 
the  attention  of  persons,  who  aim  at  higher 
attainments  in  the  language ;  who  wish  for  an 
extensive  and  critical  knowledge  of  the  subject. 
To  many  it  will  serve  as  a  book  of  reference ; 


261 

in  ascertaining  what  is  proper,  and  correcting 
what  is  erroneous,  in  English  composition.  Both 
as  an  elegant  and  a  scientific  work,  it  will,  I 
doubt  not,  find  a  place  in  the  libraries  of 
all  persons,  who  are  desirous  of  understanding 
the  construction  of  their  native  tongue,  and  of 
speaking  and  writing  it  with  accuracy  and  per- 
spicuity ;  or  who  wish  to  encourage  and  patron- 
ise the  literature  of  their  country. 

The  "  Selection  from  Bishop  Home's  Com- 
mentary on  the  Psalms,"  and  "  The  Duty  and 
Benefit  of  a  Daily  Perusal  of  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures," having  been  spoken  of  in  a  preceding  chap- 
ter, no  further  mention  of  them  seems  requisite. 

It  will  probably  be  satisfactory  to  the  reader, 
to  be  informed  of  the  prices  which  Mr.  Murray 
received  for  the  copyrights  of  his  different 
works ;  I  shall,  therefore,  present  him  with  an 
accurate  statement.  Though  inadequate  to  the 
subsequent  success  of  the  works,  they  were  cer- 
tainly very  liberal  at  the  time  they  were  given ; 
and,  I  believe,  greater  than  ever  had  been  given 
for  works  of  a  similar  nature.  The  sale  of  most 
of  the  books  far  exceeded  every  expectation 
which  had  been  formed,  when  the  agreements 
respecting  them  were  made;  but  Mr.  Murray 
often  expressed  his  entire  satisfaction  on  the 
subject.  For  the  Grammar,  Exercises,  and  Key, 
he  received  seven  hundred  pounds;  for  the 


262 

Abridgment,  one  hundred  pounds ;  for  the  Eng- 
lish Reader,  three  hundred  and  fifty  pounds ;  for 
the  Sequel  to  the  English  Reader,  two  hundred 
pounds;  for  the  Introduction  to  the  English 
Reader,  two  hundred  pounds ;  for  the  Lecteur 
Francois,  and  the  Introduction  au  Lecteur  Fran- 
cois, seven  hundred  pounds ;  for  the  Spelling- 
Book,  and  the  First  Book  for  Children,  five  hun- 
dred pounds ;  for  the  Selections  from  Home's 
Commentary  on  the  Psalms,  one  hundred  pounds. 
The  copyright  of  the  Duty  and  Benefit  of  read- 
ing the  scriptures,  as  well  as  of  the  Power  of 
Religion,  was  presented  by  him  to  the  booksel- 
lers, without  any  pecuniary  compensation.  The 
enlargement  of  the  Grammar  in  the  octavo  edi- 
tion, and  the  numerous  improvements  in,  and 
addition  to  his  other  works,  were  always  gratui- 
tous on  his  part. 

The  demand  for  his  grammatical  works,  and 
also  for  his  Spelling-Book,  has  been  so  great  and 
regular,  that  excepting  the  octavo  edition  of  the 
Grammar,  the  types  which  compose  them  have 
long  been  kept  standing.  The  editions  which 
have  been  worked  of£  though  numerous,  have 
not,  however,  been  limited  to  a  small  number  of 
copies.  For  many  years  past,  every  edition  of 
the  Grammar  has  consisted  of  ten  thousand 
copies ;  of  the  Exercises,  ten  thousand  ;  of  the 
Key,  six  thousand ;  of  the  Abridgment  of  the 
Grammar,  twelve  thousand;  of  the  Spelling. 


263 

Book,  and  of  the  First  Book  for  Children,  ten 
thousand.  Each  edition  of  the  English  Reader, 
and  of  the  Introduction  to  the  English  Reader, 
consists  of  ten  thousand  copies;  of  the  Sequel  to 
the  English  Reader,  six  thousand ;  of  the  Lec- 
teur  Francois,  and  the  Introduction  au  Lecteur 
Francois,  each  three  thousand. — That  one  au- 
thor should  have  supplied  so  many  works  on  edu- 
cation, each  of  which  is  so  extensively  circulated, 
and  so  highly  approved,  is,  I  believe,  unprece- 
dented in  the  annals  of  literature.  The  number 
of  editions  through  which  Mr.  Murray's  gram- 
matical and  other  works  have  passed,  may  be 
seen  by  referring  to  the  list  of  them,  at  the 
end  of  this  volume. 

In  the  United  States  of  North  America,  the 
sale  of  his  works  is  rapid ;  and  the  editions  are 
numerous.  The  success  of  his  publications 
in  his  native  land,  afforded  him  much  satis- 
faction ;  and  was,  as  he  observed,  peculiarly 
grateful  to  his  feelings. — The  high  approba- 
tion which  his  grammatical  works  have  received, 
and  their  extensive  circulation,  in  the  United 
States  of  North  America,  as  well  as  in  Great 
Britain,  is  a  very  pleasing  consideration.  They 
will  doubtless  tend,  in  no  small  degree,  to  pre- 
serve the  Anglo-American  language  from  cor- 
ruption ;  and  to  stop  the  progress  of  useless 
innovation.  The  advantages  likely  to  accrue  to 


264 

both  countries,  from  a  common  standard  of 
grammatical  purity  and  propriety,  are  incal- 
culable.— The  extended  use  of  the  English  lan- 
guage is  a  distinguishing  feature  of  the  times 
in  which  we  live :  it  may,  perhaps,  be  one  of 
the  means  in  the  hands  of  a  wise  and  merciful 
Providence,  for  conveying  the  benefit  of  civiliza- 
tion, and  the  knowledge  of  Christianity,  to  the 
whole  world. 

Besides  the  anonymous  extracts  given  in  the 
preceding  part  of  this  chapter,  a  great  number 
of  letters  to  the  author,  from  persons  of  high 
respectability  in  the  literary  world,  might  be 
produced,  which  contain  the  most  favourable 
sentiments  of  his  publications,  and  reflect  great 
credit  both  on  himself  and  on  his  productions. 
But  to  publish  letters,  however  honourable  to 
the  subject  of  this  work,  without  the  permission 
of  the  writers,  would  be  inconsistent  with  pro- 
priety, and  a  violation  of  my  own  principles,  as 
well  as  of  those  of  my  deceased  friend.  They 
must  therefore  be  omitted.  One  letter,  however, 
from  the  celebrated  Dr.  Blair,  may,  very  prop- 
erly, be  inserted  in  confirmation  of  the  ob- 
servations contained  in  this  chapter,  on  the 
writings  of  Mr.  Murray.  The  most  material 
parts  of  it  were,  many  years  since,  extracted  and 
sent  to  the  doctor's  nephew  and  executor,  with  a 
request  for  permission  to  publish  them.  This 


265 

permission  was  readily  granted ;  in  terms  so 
obliging,  as  make  it  evident  that  no  objection  can 
arise  to  the  publication  of  the  whole  letter.  The 
following  is  an  exact  copy  of  this  interesting 
communication ;  so  worthy  of  him  who  paid, 
and  of  him  who  received,  the  just  tribute  of 
commendation. 

SIR, 

I  have  been  honoured  with  your  kind 
letter ;  and  can  not  but  be  very  much  flattered 
with  the  testimonies  of  esteem  and  regard  which 
you  are  pleased  to  bestow ;  though  I  am  hum- 
bled, at  the  same  time,  by  a  sense  of  my  charac- 
ter's having  been  overrated  by  you,  much  above 
what  it  deserves.  1  am  happy,  however,  that 
my  publications  have  been  of  any  service  to  you, 
in  the  very  useful  works  which  you  have  given 
to  the  public. 

I  return  you  my  best  thanks  for  the  very  valua- 
ble present  of  your  works,  which  you  have  made 
me;  and  which  have  come  safe  to  my  hands.  I 
have  now  perused  a  great  part  of  them,  with 
much  pleasure  and  edification. — Your  Grammar, 
with  the  Exercises  and  the  Key  in  a  separate 
volume,  I  esteem  as  a  most  excellent  perform- 
ance. I  think  it  superior  to  any  work  of  that 
nature  we  have  yet  had ;  and  am  persuaded  that 
it  is,  by  much,  the  best  Grammar  of  the  English 

36 


266 

language  extant.  On  syntax,  in  particular,  you 
have  shown  a  wonderful  degree  of  acuteness  and 
precision,  in  ascertaining  the  propriety  of  lan- 
guage, and  in  rectifying  the  numberless  errors 
which  writers  are  apt  to  commit.  Were  I  only 
beginning  my  course,  as  I  am  now  (in  my  eighty- 
third  year)  on  the  point  of  finishing  it,  I  should 
have  hoped  to  have  been  much  benefited,  in 
point  of  accurate  style,  by  your  instructions 
and  examples.  Most  useful  they  must  certainly 
be  to  all,  who  are  applying  themselves  to  the 
arts  of  composition. 

On  your  two  volumes  of  the  English  Reader, 
I  could  bestow  much  praise  for  the  judiciousness 
and  propriety  of  the  Selection,  were  it  not  that 
my  own  writings  are  honoured  with  so  great  a 
place  in  the  work.  Certainly  the  tendency  of 
the  whole  is  of  the  best  kind ;  and  does  honour 
to  the  worthy  designs  and  intentions  of  the 
author. — To  all  the  friends  of  religion,  your 
book  on  the  Power  of  Religion  on  the  Mind, 
with  the  apt  and  useful  exemplifications  it  gives, 
can  not  but  be  highly  acceptable. — I  am  happy 
to  find  the  praises  of  the  authors  of  different 
Reviews  bestowed  with  so  much  judgment  and 
propriety  as  they  are  on  your  works. 

As  we  have  here  not  much  intercourse  with 
York,  and  as  I  have  no  correspondent  nor  ac- 
quaintance in  that  fcity,  your  name  was  unknown 


267 

to  me  till  I  received  the  present  of  your  books, 
as  is  also  your  business  or  profession.  I  should 
presume  you  are,  under  some  character,  con- 
cerned in  the  education  of  youth:  and  happy  I 
must  account  all  the  young  people  placed  under 
the  charge  of  one,  who  not  only  discovers  such 
great  abilities  in  all  that  relates  to  English  lit- 
erature, but  whose  writings  bespeak  a  mind 
fraught  with  the  best  sentiments,  and  the  most 
earnest  zeal  for  religion  and  virtue.* 

I  shall  be  always  happy  to  hear  of  your  health, 
success,  and  prosperity ;  and,  with  great  regard 
and  esteem,  I  am, 

Sir, 
.     your  most  obliged, 

and  obedient  humble  servant, 

*Hugh  Blair. 

21st  Oct.  1800, 
Edinburgh. 

*  To  prevent  misapprehension,  I  think  it  is  necessary  to 
observe  that  Mr.  Murray  was,  at  no  period  of  his  life,  engaged 
as  a  teacher  of  youth.  Many  persons,  besides  Dr.  Blair, 
supposed,  from  the  nature  of  his  writings,  that  he  was  en> 
ployed  in  the  business  of  education :  he  even  had  applications 
on  the  subject ;  particularly  from  a  respectable  person  in  Hol- 
land, who,  from  the  favourable  sentiments  which  he  had  con- 
ceived of  the  author,  on  perusing  his  works,  was  desirous  of 
placing  his  son  under  the  tuition  of  a  person  so  highly  esteemed. 
From  a  nobleman  of  high  rank  in  this  country,  with  whom 


268 

The  appropriate  and  unqualified  approbation 
contained  in  the  preceding  letter,  is  the  more 
honourable  to  our  author,  because  it  was  be- 
stowed by  a  person  whose  literary  attainments, 
and  professional  studies,  qualified  him,  in  a 
peculiar  manner,  to  judge  of  the  works  which 
he  designates  ;  and  whose  moral  and  religious 
character,  as  well  as  his  years,  precludes  the 
supposition,  that  he  did  not  express  the  genuine 
feelings  of  his  mind.  The  merits  of  the  works 
might  be  safely  rested  on  the  testimony  which 
this  letter  contains,  if  there  were  no  other  recom- 
mendations of  them :  but  their  excellence  is 
incontestably  proved  by  the  unanimous  judg- 
ment of  the  public  critics,  the  sentiments  of 
many  writers  on  education,  and  the  almost  uni- 
versal admission  of  them  into  the  seminaries, 
both  of  this  country,  and  of  the  North  American 
States.  I  sincerely  hope,  that  they  will  long 
continue  to  inform  and  guard  the  minds  of 
youth ;  and  to  serve  as  models  of  correct  and 


Mr.  Murray  was  wholly  unacquainted,  he  received  an  applica- 
tion, by  letter,  not  indeed  to  educate  his  son,  but  to  supply  him 
with  a  tutor.  Though  Mr.  Murray  was  not  a  teacher  of  youth, 
he  entertained  a  high  opinion  of  the  office,  and  a  great  respect 
for  those,  who  faithfully  endeavour  to  form  the  young  mind  to 
knowledge  and  virtue.  He  often  spoke  of  them,  as  persons 
engaged  in  one  of  the  most  important  concerns  of  society ; 
and  whose  services  merit  a  very  liberal  remuneration. 


269 

chaste  instruction,  in  various  departments  of 
science. 

If  any  reader  should  think  that  the  observa- 
tions in  this  chapter,  are  too  far  extended,  and 
bear  the  marks  of  undue  partiality ;  I  beg  leave 
to  state  that  I  could  scarcely  have  made  them 
more  limited,  on  an  occasion  in  which  the  pro- 
fessed object  is,  to  explain  the  nature  and  design, 
and  to  portray  the  excellences,  of  these  publi- 
cations.— I  do  not,  however,  wish  to  exalt  the 
value  of  them  above  its  proper  level,  nor  to 
appreciate  the  author's  literary  talents  more 
highly  than  they  deserve.  In  the  important 
business  of  education,  I  believe  no  person  will 
deny  that  he  has  been  eminently  useful;  and 
that  his  works  have  produced  much  practical 
good  to  society.  And  this  character  certainly 
entitles  them  to  a  respectable  rank  in  the  repub- 
lic of  letters.  It  will  secure  to  the  author,  the 
title  of  the  friend  of  youth ;  and  the  reputation 
of  having  successfully  employed  his  time  and 
talents,  in  promoting  the  best  interests  of  the 
rising  generation :  a  reputation  which  is  more 
valuable,  and  dearer  far,  to  the  mind  of  a  pious 
man,  than  the  highest  acquisition  of  mere  lite- 
rary fame. 

The  praise  which  Dr.  Johnson  bestows  on 
Watts,  may,  with  almost  equal  propriety,  be  ap- 
plied to  our  author:  "Whatever  he  took  in  hand 


270 

was,  by  his  incessant  solicitude  for  souls,  con- 
verted to  theology.  As  piety  predominated  in 
his  mind,  it  is  diffused  over  his  works.  Under 
his  direction  it  may  be  truly  said,  that  philoso- 
phy is  subservient  to  evangelical  instruction  :  it 
is  difficult  to  read  a  page  without  learning,  or  at 
least,  wishing  to  be  better." 


THE  EN1>. 


271 


A  LIST  OF  THE  BOOKS 
PUBLISHED  BY  LINDLEY  MURRAY. 

1.  A  FIRST  BOOK  FOR  CHILDREN.     The  17th  edition. 

2.  AN  ENGLISH  SPELLING-BOOK  ;  with  Reading  Lessons  a- 
dapted  to  the  capacities  of  Children :  in  Three  Parts.  Cal- 
culated to  advance  the  Learners  by  natural  and  easy  grada- 
tions ;   and  to  teach  Orthography  and   Pronunciation  to- 
gether.    The  34th  edition. 

3.  AN  ABRIDGMENT  OF  MURRAY'S  ENGLISH  GRAMMAR.    With 
an  Appendix,  containing  Exercises  in  Orthography,  in  Pars- 
ing,  in  Syntax,  and  in   Punctuation.     Designed  for  the 
younger  Classes  of  Learners.     The  92nd  edition. 

4.  ENGLISH  GRAMMAR,  adapted  to  the  different  Classes  of 
Learners,     With  an  Appendix,  containing  Rules,  and  Ob- 
servations for  assisting  the  more  advanced  Students  to  write 
with  perspicuity  and  accuracy.     The  40th  edition. 

5.  ENGLISH  EXERCISES,  adapted  to  Murray's  English  Gram- 
mar :  consisting  of  Exercises  in  Parsing ;  instances  of  False 
Orthography ;  violations  of  the  Rules  of  Syntax ;  defects 
in  Punctuation ;  and  violations  of  the  Rules  respecting  per- 
spicuous and  accurate  Writing.     Designed  for  the  benefit 
of  private  Learners,  as  well  as  for  the  use  of  Schools.  The 
34th  edition. 

6.  KEY  TO   THE  EXERCISES,   adapted  to  Murray's  English 
Grammar.     Calculated  to  enable  Private  Learners  to  be- 
come their  own  instructors,  in  Grammar  and  Composition. 
The  17th  edition. 

7.  AN  ENGLISH  GRAMMAR:    comprehending   the   Principles 
and  Rules  of  the  language,  illustrated  by  appropriate  Exer- 
cises, and  a  Key  to  the  Exercises.     In  two  vols.  8vo.  The 
5th  edition,  improved. 

8.  INTRODUCTION  TO  THE  ENGLISH  READER:  or,  A  Selection 
of  Pieces,  in  Prose  and  Poetry ;  calculated  to  improve  the 
younger  Classes  of  Learners  in  Reading;  and  to  imbue 
their  minds  with  the  love  of  virtue.     To  which  are  added, 
Rules  and  Observations  for  assisting  Children  to  read  with 
Propriety.     The  22nd  edition. 


272 

9.  THE  ENGLISH  READER  :  or,  Pieces  in  Prose  and  Poetry, 
selected  from  the  best  Writers.     Designed  to  assist  young 
Persons  to  read  with  propriety  and  effect ;  to  improve  their 
language  and  sentiments;  and  to  inculcate  some  of  the 
most  important  principles  of  piety  and  virtue.     With  a  few 
preliminary  Observations  on  the  principles  of  good  Read- 
ing.    The  19th  edition. 

10.  SEQUEL  TO  THE  ENGLISH  READER:  or,  Elegant  Selections 
in  Prose  and  Poetry.     Designed  to  improve  the  highest 
class  of  learners,  in  reading;  to  establish  a  taste  for  just 
arid  accurate  composition ;  and  to  promote  the  interests  of 
piety  and  virtue.    The  6th  edilion. 

11.  INTRODUCTION  AH  LF.CTFITR   FRANCOIS:    on,  Recueil  de 
Pieces  Choisies:  avec  1'explication  des  idiotismes,  et  des 
phrases  difficiles,  qui  s'y  trouvent.     The  5th  edition. 

12.  LECTEUR  FRANCOIS:  ou,  Recueil  de  Pieces,  en  Prose  et 
en  Vers,  tirees  des  Meilleurs  Ecrivains.    Pour  servir  a  per- 
fectionner  les  jeunes  gens  dans  la  lecture  ;  a  etendre  leur 
connoissance  de  la  Langue  Franchise  et  a  leur  inculquer 
des  principes  de  vertu  et  de  piete.     The  5th  edition. 

13.  THE  POWER  OF  RELIGION  ON  THE  MIND,  in  Retirement, 
Affliction,  and  at  the  approach  of  Death ;  exemplified  in  the 
Testimonies  and  Experience  of  Persons  distinguished  by 
their  greatness,  learning,  or  virtue.     The  18th  edition. 

"  Tis  immortality, — 'tis  that  alone, 

"  Amidst  life's  pains,  abasements,  emptiness, 

"  The  soul  can  comfort,  elevate,  and  fill."  YOUNG. 

14.  The  same  Work  on  fine  paper,  with  a  pica  letter,  8vo. 

15.  THE  DUTY  AND  BENEFIT  of  a  daily  Perusal  of  the  HOLY 
SCRIPTURES,  in  Families.    The  2nd  edition,  improved. 

16.  A  SELECTION  from  Bishop  Home's  Commentary  on  the 
Psalms. 


ABSTRACT 

OF 

A   MEMORIAL 

OF 

YORK  MONTHLY  MEETING  OF  FRIENDS, 

RESPECTING 

LINDLEY  MURRAY. 


THE  ancient  practice  of  our  Society,  of  preserving  memo- 
rials of  some  of  its  members,  whose  lives  and  conversation 
have  eminently  illustrated  our  Christian  principles,  has,  we 
believe,  been  in  various  ways  beneficial.  The  account  of  those 
who  have  fought  the  good  fight,  and  kept  the  faith,  and  Who, 
through  infinite  mercy,  we  have  cause  to  believe,  have  re- 
ceived the  immortal  crown,  is  calculated  to  stimulate  the 
lukewarm  to  enter  on  the  Christian  warfare,  and  to  confirm 
the  faith  of  those  who  are  already  engaged,  and  animate  them 
in  the  spiritual  conflict.  It  is  with  these  views,  that  we  feel 
disposed  to  record  a  notice  of  the  services  and  character  of 
our  late  much  beloved  friend  and  elder,  Lindley  Murray. 

He  was  a  native  of  Pennsylvania,  North  America;  and  his 
parents  were  respected  members  of  the  Society  of  Friends. 
His  father  designed  him  for  a  merchant,  and  he  gave  him  an 
excellent  education.  But  Lindley  Murray,  having  entertained 
views  of  mental  improvement  superior  to  what  is  generally 
afforded  by  mercantile  persuits,  on  leaving  school  sought  for 
some  employment  more  congenial  with  the  bent  of  his  mind. 

37 


274 

He  gave  a  decided  preference  to  the  law,  and  having  pursued 
his  studies  for  four  years  with  an  eminent  solicitor,  he  com- 
menced practice  in  New  York ;  where  his  knowledge  and  tal- 
ents soon  developed  themselves,  and  appeared  likely  to  gain 
for  him  considerable  practice.  But  it  pleased  Divine  Provi- 
dence, to  arrest,  by  sickness,  the  course  of  his  ardent  pursuits; 
and  by  a  succession  of  circumstances  which  might  then  ap- 
pear opposed  to  his  usefulness  and  comfort,  to  direct  his  fu- 
ture life  to  those  purposes  which  Infinite  Wisdom  saw  best. 

About  the  year  1 784  his  constitution  being  very  much  en- 
feebled by  illness,  his  physicians  advised  the  trial  of  a  milder 
climate,  as  the  most  likely  means  to  re-establish  his  health. 
He  had  some  years  before  been  in  this  country,  which  in- 
duced him  to  give  a  decided  preference  to  England.  At  this 
time  he  had  been  married  about  seventeen  years ;  and  the 
prospect  of  leaving  their  home  and  near  connexions,  was,  to 
him  and  his  beloved  wife,  a  severe  trial.  They  hoped,  however, 
that  with  the  blessing  of  Providence  on  the  means  thus  used, 
they  might  be  favoured,  at  no  distant  period,  to  return  to  their 
native  country ,  which  they  left  with  the  unity  and  sympathy 
of  their  friends,  as  expressed  in  the  certificate  from  the 
Monthly  Meeting  of  New  York,  addressed  to  one  of  the 
Meetings  in  London.  They  landed  in  the  First  month,  1785, 
and  in  the  course  of  that  year  fixed  their  residence  at  Hold- 
gate,  near  York;  at  which  place  they  continued  to  live  until 
the  time  of  Lindley  Murray's  decease. 

During  youth,  the  natural  vivacity  of  his  mind  led  him  into 
some  of  the  gaieties  incident  to  that  period  of  life  ;  but  there 
is  good  reason  to  believe,  that  he  was  easily  made  sensible 
of  the  operation  of  Divine  Grace,  and  that  his  morals  and 
principles  were  preserved  from  contamination.  For  some 
years  previous  to  his  settling  in  England,  he  had  been  led  to 
form  a  correct  estimate  of  the  value  of  all  earthly  pursuits;  to 
turn  his  back  on  the  applause  of  the  world ;  and  had  become 
an  humble,  consistent,  and  exemplary  member  of  our  religious 


275 


society ;  his  mind,  as  it  matured,  having  made  the  principles 
of  his  education,  those  of  his  judgment. 

Such  was  the  character  of  our  dear  friend,  when,  by  a  Prov- 
idence which  we  desire  to  acknowledge  with  gratitude,  his 
lot  was  first  cast  among  us.  The  humility  of  his  deportment, 
and  the  Christian  spirit  which  breathed  through  his  whole 
conduct,  greatly  endeared  him  to  the  members  of  this  meet- 
ing, and  afforded  him  a  scope  for  usefulness,  of  which  he  dili- 
gently availed  himself,  for  the  benefit  of  all  around  him.  His 
health  continued  so  delicate,  as  to  prevent  his  taking  a  very 
active  part  in  our  meetings  for  discipline,  or  in  the  concerns 
of  society  at  large;  yet,  contemplating  his  time,  his  talents, 
and  all  that  he  possessed,  but  as  a  trust  of  which  he  had  to 
render  an  account,  he  proved  by  his  future  life  how  much 
may  be  done  for  the  good  of  others,  under  circumstances  ap- 
parently unfavourable,  when  the  love  of  God  and  of  our  fel- 
low creatures  is  the  governing  principle  of  the  heart. 

In  the  year  1787,  he  published  the  book  well  known  by 
the  title  of  "  The  Power  of  Religion  on  the  Mind."  The  con- 
solation which  he  had  himself  derived  from  the  hopes  and 
promises  of  the  Gospel,  led  him,  doubtless,  to  the  selection 
of  these  striking  examples  of  the  influence  of  religion,  "in 
retirement,  affliction,  and  at  the  approach  of  death;"  ex- 
hibiting its  efficacy  in  retreat  from  the  world,  and  under  the 
most  trying  circumstances  of  human  existence.  His  desire 
that  many  persons  should  reap  the  benefit  of  this  selection, 
induced  him  to  have  a  large  number  of  copies  printed  for 
gratuitous  distribution. 

At  the  time  of  Lindley  Murray's  coming  to  York,  a 
school  had  just  been  established  for  the  education  of  girls 
of  the  Society  of  Friends,  which  soon  became  an  object  of 
great  interest  to  him  ;  and  it  was  for  the  benefit  of  this  school 
that  he  first  attempted  to  simplify,  and  thereby  facilitate  the 
acquirement,  of  elementary  instruction.  In  his  publications 
for  this  purpose,  he  not  only  excluded  whatever  was  calcu- 
lated to  impress  false  principles  and  sentiments  in  morals  and 


276 

religion,  but  he  also  aimed  to  make  the  course  of  instruction 
in  the  elements  of  useful  knowledge,  subservient  to  a  still 
higher  object— that  of  imbuing  the  susceptible  minds  of  youth 
with  the  purest  principles  and  precepts  of  Christian  morality. 
The  fruits  of  these  unostentatious  labours  can  not  be  accurately 
estimated ;  but  we  have  reason  to  believe  that,  under  the 
Divine  blessing,  they  have  had  a  decided  and  extensive  influ- 
ence in  the  formation  of  virtuous  and  religious  character. 

In  the  year  1795,  seven  friends  were  committed  to  York 
Castle  for  refusing  to  pay  tithes;  the  claimant  having  pursued 
the  Exchequer  process,  instead  of  the  more  easy  mode  of 
recovery  provided  by  law.  Lindley  Murray  assisted  the  pris- 
oners in  the  statement  of  their  case,  which  was  published 
under  the  title  of"  The  Prisoner's  Defence;"  and  also  in  the 
further  support  of  their  cause,  in  reply  to  the  allegations  of 
the  prosecutor.  In  these  works,  the  soundness  of  his  judg- 
ment, and  his  habitual  self-government  and  Christian  temperr 
were  strikingly  evinced.  His  opponent  had  attacked  the  ob- 
jects of  his  severity  with  harsh  invective;  the  replies  return- 
ed not  railing  for  railing,  but  displayed  the  force  of  truth, 
clothed  in  the  spirit  of  Him  who  prayed  for  his  persecutors. 

These  publications,  as  well  as  the  Christian  conduct  of  the 
sufferers,  excited  a  feeling  of  respect  and  commiseration  for 
them,  which,  we  believe,  tended  to  strengthen,  in  the  public 
mind,  the  testimony  they  supported,  and  to  call  forth,  even 
from  the  members  of  his  own  profession,  a  general  expression 
of  disapprobation  of  the  measures  pursued  by  the  claimant. 

In  the  year  1812,  Lindley  Murray  published  "  A  Selection 
from  Bishop  Home's  Commentary  on  the  Psalms  ;"  a  work, 
which,  for  many  years,  formed  a  part  of  his  daily  reading.  In 
the  latter  years  of  his  life,  his  bodily  infirmities  increased  ;  but 
his  mind  was  preserved  in  intellectual  and  spiritual  brightness ; 
and  he  was  particularly  watchful,  that  his  weakness  of  body 
should  not  lead  to  any  habits  of  indolence  or  unnecessary  self 
indulgence. 


277 

A  considerable  portion  of  his  time,  during  the  latter  part 
of  his  life,  was  employed  in  the  correction  and  improvement 
of  the  numerous  editions  of  his  various  works.  His  concern 
for  the  religious  instruction  of  the  youth  of  our  society,  led  him, 
when  in  his  seventieth  year,  to  prepare  and  publish  "  A  Com- 
pendium of  Religious  Faith  and  Practice,"  chiefly  designed, 
for  their  use :  and  shortly  afterwards  he  published  a  little 
work  on  "  The  Duty  and  Benefit  of  a  daily  Perusal  of  the 
Holy  Scriptures  in  Families,"  which  evinced  his  continued 
concern  for  the  best  interests  of  society  at  large.  Thus  was  our 
dear  friend  engaged,  through  the  course  of  a  long  life,  to  ex- 
hibit in  his  daily  walk,  and  to  promote  in  the  world,  whatso- 
ever things  were  honest,  and  lovely,  and  of  good  report.  It 
remains  for  us  to  mention  a  few  particulars  more  immediately 
illustrating  his  religious  views  and  private  character,  and  his 
general  usefulness  as  a  member  of  our  religious  society. — 
Whilst  health  permitted  him,  he  was  a  diligent  attender  of 
our  meetings  for  worship  and  discipline ;  and  was  in  life  and 
conversation,  an  eminent  preacher  of  righteousness — illustra- 
ting in  all  his  deportment,  our  Christian  testimonies,  with  uni- 
form consistency  ;  and  we  believe  we  may  truly  say,  adorning 
the  gospel  of  God,  his  Saviour,  in  all  things. 

His  charities,  both  public  and  private,  but  particularly  the 
latter,  were  extensive.  He  was  a  firm  friend  to  the  education 
of  the  poorer  classes  of  society,  which  he  evinced  not  only  by 
his  liberality  in  assisting  public  institutions  for  this  purpose, 
but  by  his  kind  attentions  to  the  wants  of  those  in  his  own 
neighbourhood,  at  a  period  considerably  prior  to  the  general 
interest  being  excited  on  the  subject.  He  was  very  solicitous 
for  the  improvement  of  the  condition  of  the  Indian  aborigines 
of  his  native  country,  and  of  the  African  race.  He  took  a 
lively  interest  in  the  proceedings  of  the  Bible  Society,  and  in 
every  thing  which  related  to  the  extension  of  the  Redeemer's 
kingdom  on  earth. 


278 


His  exemplary  moderation  and  simplicity  in  every  thing  con- 
nected with  his  own  expenditure,  in  his  dress,  in  the  furniture 
of  his  house  and  table,  and  the  entire  coincidence  of  his  beloved 
and  faithful  partner  in  all  his  views,  enabled  them  to  devote  a 
considerable  part  of  their  income,  and  the  profits  which  he  de- 
rived from  his  numerous  works,  to  objects  of  piety  and  benevo- 
lence. He  was,  at  the  same  time,  hospitable  in  his  house,  and, 
though  liberal,  discriminating  and  judicious  in  his  charity.  His 
mind,  indeed,  was  richly  imbued  with  Christian  love ;  from 
which  Divine  root  flowed  that  meekness,  patience,  gentleness, 
charity,  and  forgiving  temper,  which  he  so  uniformly  evinced. 

Although  during  nearly  the  last  twenty  years  of  his  life,  he 
was  unable,  from  the  state  of  his  health,  to  unite  with  us  in 
public  worship,  yet  his  zeal  and  devotion  were  not,  we  are  per- 
suaded, in  any  degree  diminished.  His  delight  was  still  in  the 
law  of  the  Lord,  and  in  his  law  did  he  meditate  day  and  night. 
Nor,  though  necessarily  more  excluded  from  their  society, 
were  his  love  and  attachment  to  his  friends  abated. 

He  was  ready  and  willing,  when  of  ability,  to  be  consulted 
by  them ;  and  he  continued  to  the  last  to  take  a  lively  interest 
in  whatever  related  to  their  welfare.  He  rejoiced  especially 
in  the  indication  of  spiritual  growth  amongst  us ;  and  was 
greatly  concerned  for  the  due  exercise  of  our  Christian  disci- 
pline, in  the  spirit  of  meekness  and  wisdom. 

He  stood  in  the  station  of  an  elder,  from  the  year  1802  to 
the  period  of  his  death ;  and  the  judgment  and  advice  of  one 
whose  experience  was  so  extensive,  and  whose  natural  pow- 
ers and  acquirements  had  been  so  sanctified  by  Divine  Grace, 
was  a  privilege  to  us,  for  which,  while  we  deplore  the  loss, 
we  desire  to  render  our  humble  acknowledgments  to  the  Giver 
of  all  good.  Our  dear  friend,  notwithstanding  his  various  pri- 
vations from  the  state  of  his  health,  was  remarkable  for  cheer- 
fulness :  and  he  was  frequently  led  to  number  his  blessings, 
and  to  acknowledge  that  his  afflictions,  and  what  appeared  to 


279 

be  the  most  adverse  circumstances  of  his  life,  were  designed 
to  promote  his  final  well-being.  He  never  repined  at  his  long 
confinement,  but  was  wont  to  observe  how  pleasant  was  his 
prison,  if  he  might  use  the  term. 

Whilst  thus  cultivating  the  Christian  enjoyment  of  life,  as 
an  evidence  of  his  gratitude  to  God,  he  was  often  led,  with 
great  humility,  to  contemplate  the  close  of  it  as  the  commence- 
ment of  a  state  of  infinite  enjoyment.  He  frequently  ex- 
pressed his  sense  of  his  own  imperfections  and  unworthiness, 
and  uniformly  evinced  that  his  hopes  of  salvation  rested  solely 
on  the  mercy  of  God,  through  the  atonement  and  mediation  of 
Jesus  Clirist.  On  the  occasion  of  the  fiftieth  anniversary  of 
his  union  with  his  beloved  partner,  he  thus  expresses  himself 
in  writing :  "  In  the  course  of  the  long  period  of  our  union, 
we  have  had  our  trials  and  our  afflictions,  we  have  seen  a 
variety  of  trying  events  and  situations ;  but  we  have  been 
favoured  too,  with  many  great  and  distinguished  blessings. 
Even  the  afflictions,  and  what  appeared  to  be  adverse  occur- 
rences, were  designed  for  our  final  well-being.  I  hope  the 
gracious  intention  of  these  dispensations  will  be  fully  answered, 
by  our  being  safely  landed,  through  the  atonement  and  inter- 
cession of  our  blessed  Redeemer,  on  those  happy  shores 
where  no  clouds  nor  storms  are  ever  known;  and  where  after 
millions  of  ages  of  happiness  shall  have  passed  away,  we  shall 
only  seem  to  have  begun  our  felicity — a  felicity  that  will 
never  end." 

The  following  memorandum  found  in  his  writing  desk,  but  to 
which  there  is  no  date,  evinces  that  habit  of  watchfulness  and 
self-examination  so  necessary  to  the  growth  of  Christian  char- 
acter :  "Preserve  me  from  all  vain  self-complacency;  from 
seeking  the  applause  of  men;  and  from  all  solicitude  about 
what  they  may  say  or  think  of  me.  May  I  be  truly  humble, 
and  of  a  meek  and  quiet  spirit.  If  I  have  done  any  good  to 
my  fellow  creatures,  or  in  any  degree  promoted  the  will  of 
my  heavenly  Father,  may  I  unfeignedly  give  him  all  the  glory ; 


280 

attributing  nothing  to  myself,  and  taking  comfort  only  from  the 
reflection,  that  an  employment  in  his  service  affords  an  evi- 
dence that  his  mercy  is  towards  me  ,  that  I  am  not  forsaken 
by  Him,  and  that  he  is  training  me  for  an  inhabitant  of  his 
blessed  kingdom ;  there  to  glorify  and  serve  my  God  and  Re- 
deemer forever." 

A  few  days  after  entering  on  his  81st  year,  he  wrote  as 
follows :  "  For  the  mercies  and  preservation,  and  the  con- 
tinuance of  the  many  blessings  we  have  had  together,  (allud- 
ing to  his  wife,)  we  have  abundant  cause  to  be  thankful  to 
our  heavenly  Protector  and  Father.  May  He  be  pleased  to 
prepare  us  for  his  holy  and  happy  kingdom,  where  we  shall 
then  have  to  rejoice  forever,  in  rendering  continual  thanks- 
givings and  praises,  and  the  most  devout  and  zealous  services, 
to  our  heavenly  Father,  Redeemer,  and  Sanctifier,  One  God, 
blessed  forever." 

These  memorandums  express,  we  believe,  the  daily  aspira- 
tions and  acknowledgments  of  our  dear  friend's  mind ;  and 
fn  this  state  of  preparation,  and  of  humble  and  comfortable 
reliance  on  the  mercy  of  God  in  Christ  Jesus,  was  he,  we 
doubt  not,  found,  when  the  messenger  of  death  delivered  his 
hasty  summons,  and  called  him  from  the  labours  of  the 
church  militant  on  earth,  to  the  joys  of  the  church  triumph* 
ant  in  heaven. 

On  the  evening  of  the  13th  of  the  Second-month,  1826, 
he  was  suddenly  seized  with  a  severe  attack  of  indisposition, 
and  on  the  morning  of  the  16th  he  breathed  his  last,  in  great 
peace  and  resignation,  in  the  81st  year  of  his  age.  His  re- 
mains were  interred  in  Friends'  burying  ground  at  York ;  a 
large  number  of  Friends  and  other  respectable  inhabitants  at- 
tending his  funeral  and  the  subsequent  meeting. 

Signed  in  our  Monthly  Meeting  held  at  York,  the  17th  of 
Fifth-month,  and  20th  of  Sixth-month,  1826. 

By  Fifty-seven  Persons. 


REMARKS 


ON    THE 


EEVIEW  OF  INCHIQUIN'S  LETTERS, 


PUBLISHED  IN  THE 


QUARTERLY  REVIEW; 


XPDHI6SZD   TO 


THE   RIGHT   HONOURABLE 


GEORGE  CANNING,  ESQUIRE. 


0x  SAMUEL,  1.  AKMS J  ROIS  t.^ 
No.  50,  ConiraiLt. 

1815. 


DISTRICT  OF  MASSACHUSETTS— To  viits 

District  Clerk's  Office. 

BE  IT  BEMEMBEIIED,  that  on  the' eleventh  day  of  April,  A.  D.  1815,  and  in 
the  thirty-ninth  year  of  the  independence  of  the  United  '  States  of  America, 
SAMUKL  T.  ARMSTRONG,  of  the  said  District,  has  deposited  in  this  office  the 
title  of  a  book,  the  right  whereof  he  claims  as  Proprietor,  in  the  words  follow- 
fag,  to  ivit: 

"Remarks  on  the  Review  of  Inchiquin's  Letters,  published  in  the  Quarterly 
Review;  addressed  to  the  Right  Honourable  George  Canning,  Esq. 

In  conformity  to  the  act  of  the  Congress  of  the  United  States,  intitled,  "An 
act  for  the  encouragement  of  Learning,  by  securing  the  Copies  of  Maps,  Charts, 
and  Books,  to  the  Authors  and  Proprietors  of  such  Copies,  during  the  times 
therein  mentioned;"  and  also  to  an  act  intitled,  "An  act  supplementary  to  an 
act,  intitled  an  act  for-^he  Encouragement  of  Learning,  by  securing  the  Cop- 
ies of  Maps,  Charts,  and  Books,  to  the  Authors  and  Proprietors  of  such  Copies 
during  the  times  therein  mentioned;  and  extending  the  benefits  thereof  to  thq 
Ai'ts  uf  Designing,  Engraving,  and  Etching,  Historical  and  other  Prints." 

WILLIAM  S.  SHAW, 
Clerk  af  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


PREFACE, 

WHEN  the  following  Remarks  were  almost  finished^ 
I  was  informed,  that  Strictures  on  the  Review  of 
Inchiquin's  Letters  had  been  just  published  in  New 
York.  As  I  have  not  read  the  Work,  I  can  say 
nothing  of  its  merit:  but  some  of  my  friends,  who  had 
seen  it,  urged  me  to  finish  what  I  had  proposed,  and 
to  send  it  to  the  press.  I  have  also  been  told,  that 
some  Observations  have  been  published  in  one  of  the 
Boston  news-papers  on  the  same  Review;  but  have 
not  seen  them. 

The  general  subject  of  these  Remarks  has  become 
possessed  of  considerable  importance.  Great  Britain 
and  the  United  States  are  naturally  friends;  and  their 
friendship  to  each  other  cannot  fail,  if  it  should  exist, 
of  being  mutually  and  extensively  beneficial.  It  has 
its  foundation  laid  deep  in  the  common  origin,  lan- 
guage, manners,  laws,  and  religion;  and  scarcely  less 
deep  in  the  common  interests.  Its  consequences  can 
only  be  good:  an  interruption  of  it  can  only  be  mis- 
chievous: the  destruction  of  it  will  be  an  evil,  which 
cannot  be  measured.  Nor  will  the  injury  to  the 
United  States  be  greater,  so  far  as  human  foresight  is 
able  to  divine,  than  to  Great  Britain. 

I  have  ever  considered  those,  who  on  either  side  of 
the  Atlantic  have  been  willing  to  alienate  these  nations 


iV  PREFACE. 

from  each  other,  as  governed  by  passion  and  prejudice, 
or  as  acting  from  ignorance  or  thoughtlessness.  In 
both  countries  they  have  been  sufficiently  numerous. 
Here,  as  writers,  they  have  appeared  chiefly  in  News- 
papers. In  Great  Britain  they  have  assumed  graver 
characters.-  Both  the  Travellers  and  the  Literary 
Journalists  of  that  Country  have  for  reasons,  which  ifc 
would  be  idle  to  inquire  after,  and  useless  to  allege, 
thought  it  proper  to  caricature  the  Americans.  Their 
pens  have  been  dipped  in  gall;  and  their  representa- 
tions have  been,  almost  merely,  a  mixture  of  malevo- 
lence and  falsehood.  As  they  have  been  long  contin- 
ued, and  very  often  repeated,  it  cannot  be  unkind,  or 
in  any  sense  improper,  to  examine  their  character. 

A  great  number  of  these  abusive  effusions  have 
been  published  in  British  Reviews.  They  began  in 
Sentences,  and  Paragraphs:  they  have  now  become 
the  materials  of  extended  discussion,  and  indicate 
with  sufficient  evidence,  a  settled  hostility  against  this 
country. 

That  Britons  should  feel  the  common  resentment  of 
enemies  towards  us,  during  the  existence  of  the  present 
war,  is  certainly  to  be  expected.  But  men,  whose 
minds  are  professedly  enlarged  with  literature  and  sci- 
ence, are  fairly  required  to  know,  that  what  they  write 
is  at  least  probably  founded  in  truth,  and  to  assert 
nothing  which  is  not  well  sustained  by  evidence.  To 
such  men  prejudice  and  passion  ought,  at  least  during 
(heir  sober  lucubrations,  to  be  strangers.  By  such 


PREFACE.  f 

mefl  contempt  and  sneers  ought  to  be  admitted  into 
their  writings  with  reluctance.  But  in  the  Reviews, 
which  I  have  mentioned,  the  Writers,  in  their  Obser- 
vations concerning  this  Country,  have  uttered  little  be- 
side the  language  of  contempt  and  ill  nature. 

The  existing  Government  of  these  States  has  labour- 
ed for  a  long  time  to  alienate  its  citizens  from  Great 
Britain)  and  to  attach  them  to  France.  The  attempt 
has  to  some  extent  been  blasted,  hitherto:  but  it  may 
be  renewed  with  fresh  vigour  at  no  distant  period. 
The  only  means  of  rendering  it  finally  successful,  of 
which  I  can  conceive,  will  be  the  co-operation  of 
Britons  with  the  existing  American  Government  in 
its  favourite  design.  In  such  a  co-operation  these 
Writers  have  embarked  with  an  ardour,  scarcely  to 
have  been  expected.  Few  measures  could  with  equal 
efficacy  bring  forward  such  a  catastrophe.  Their 
writings  are  extensively  read  in  this  Country;  and, 
wherever  they  are  read,  produce  a  resentment  and  in- 
dignation, not  easily  forgotten.  Very  naturally,  they 
are  supposed  to  be  the  sentiments  of  the  British  nation; 
and  the  supposition  easily  exhibits  every  prospect  of 
future  conciliation  as  hopeless,  and  even  the  wish  for  it 
as  idle  and  childish:  for  who  can  rationally  desire  any 
connexion  either  with  an  individual,  or  a  nation,  capa- 
ble of  such  sentiments? 

The  account,  given,  in  the  course  of  this  Work,  con- 
cerning the  manner,  in  which  the  British  Reviews  are 
conducted,  and  concerning  the  character  of  the  Re- 


vi  PREFACE. 

viewers,  will  go  far  towards  persuading  the  people  of 
this  Country,  that  they  are  not  to  receive  their  effusions 
as  being  the  sentiments  of  the  British  Nation,  but  as 
ebullitions  from  inmates  of  the  Fleet,  King's  bench,  and 
Newgate,  prisons;  or  from  other  base  and  despicable 
hirelings,  employed  to  aid  the  dirty  purposes  of  a 
dirty  bookseller.  The  Nation  has  not  lost  its  former 
nobleness;  and  Reviewers  are  not  the  organs  of  its 
will.  It  still  contains  a  multitude  of  great,  and  wise, 
and  good  men,  who,  when  the  present  paroxism  is 
over,  will,  I  trust,  act  towards  us;  as  such  men  may  be 
fairly  expected  to  act. 

The  Review  of  Inchiquin's  Letters,  as  I  have  been 
very  lately  informed,  has  in  this  country  been  attribu- 
ted to  Mr.  Southey.  I  can  hardly  admit  the  supposi- 
tion, that  a  man,  possessing  the  reputation  of  this  gen- 
tleman, can  have  been  the  author  of  so  unworthy  a 
production.  If  it  is  his;  I  can  only  say,  I  regret  it,  for 
the  sake  of  human  nature. 

The  attention  paid  in  the  course  of  these  Remarks 
to  Mr.  Jeffrey,  the  Conductor  of  the  Edinburgh  Re- 
view, has  been  abundantly  merited  by  the  indecent 
sneers,  and  slanders,  issued  in  that  Journal  concerning 
the  inhabitants  of  the  United  States.  Scotchmen,  and 
Scotland,  have  been  treated  here  with  every  expression 
of  good  will;  and  we  deserve  from  them  nothing,  but 
to  be  "paid  in  kind."  But  in  a  Work,  which  from  the 
beginning  has  either  openly,  or  insidiously,  been  hos- 
tile to  good  Government,  and  Christianity,  who,  not 


PREFACE.  Vll 

destitute  of  Common  Sense,  can  expect  any  thing, 
which  is  just,  or  honourable.  As  to  Mr.  Jeffrey  him- 
self,  the  civilities,  which  he  received  here,  turned  his 
head;  and  have  been  requited  only  with  insolence. 
Nothing  better  could  rationally  have  been  expected 
from  a  man,  who  had  wickedness  enough  to  go  into 
the  field,  in  order  to  gain  the  reputation  of  a  duellist, 
and  baseness  enough  to  agree  beforehand  with  his  mis- 
erable antagonist  to  fight  with  powder  only.  The 
Edinburgh  Review  sometimes  exhibits  superiour  tal- 
ents; but,  as  a  whole,  it  is  a  nuisance  to  the  world. 

It  is  time  that  the  people  of  this  country  should  be- 
gin to  estimate  the  foreigners,  who  visit  it,  more  justly. 
Nine,  out  of  ten,  so  far  as  their  observations  are  pub- 
lished, are  mere  common  slanderers;  and  appear  to 
cross  the  ocean  for  little  else  than  to  bely  us,  as  soon 
as  they  leave  our  shores.  If  they  dislike  our  country 
and  its  inhabitants,  let  them  stay  at  home.  We  shall 
not  molest  them.  Here  they  claim,  and  receive,  an 
attention,  due  only  to  persons  of  worth;  and  then  repay 
our  civilities  with  contempt  and  abuse.  It  is  sufficiently 
painful  to  be  ill-treated  by  men  of  respectability;  but 
to  be  subjected  to  the  heels,  and  the  braying  of  such 
creatures,  as  Janson,  Ashe,  and  Parkinson;  and  that, 
in  a  sense  voluntarily,  is  to  be  humbled  indeed.  It  is 
to  be  hoped,  that  Americans,  before  they  again  open 
their  houses,  and  their  hearts,  for  the  reception  of 
foreign  stragglers,  will  demand  some  evidence,  that 
they  are  not  scoundrels.-  Every  worthy  man,  from 


PREFACE. 

every  country,  I  would  welcome;  and  wish  my  coun- 
trymen to  welcome,  to  every  good  office.  But  it  is 
time,  that  we  should  begin  to  select  from  so  corrupt  a 
mass,  such  parts,  as  are  at  least  not  putrid. 

If  we  can  be  connected  with  Great  Britain  on 
terms  of  mutual  good  will,  and  mutual  respect;  I  shall 
hail  the  connexion  with  the  most  sincere  pleasure;  but, 
if  the  people  of  that  country  are  only  to  regard  us  with 
malignity  and  contempt,  and  to  treat  us  with  abuse 
and  slander;  the  sooner,  and  the  farther,  we  are  sep- 
arated, the  better. 

Feb.  1,  1815. 


CONTENTS. 


Mr.  Jeffersqti  and  Mr.  Madison,         »  14 

T&e  War, 15 

Honourable  character  of  the  British  Nation,                -            -  16 

Conduct  of  the  War,          -           -           -           .           „           .  .            17 

Comparison  of  British  and  American  Rulers,               -  2t 
Congress  compared  with  the  British  Parliament, 

American  Elections^                   -                                     ...  29 

English  Eleetions,                -                                       -  32 

New  England  Elections,            .---•-  37 

English  Electioneering,       -                                     -  3* 

Talents  in  the  House  of  Commons,       -  40 

Matthew  Lyon,        -  4,1 

Duels,      -                                    -                       -  42 

Courts  of  Justice,                                         -  44 
Toleration,        -                                      -                                     .45 

Justices  of  the  Peace,         -  47 

Miranda,            .......  ib. 

Professional  education  of  Lawyers,                          -                       -  ib. 

of  Physicians,                -  48 

English  Lawyers,                                        -                        •  ib. 

Stealing,             ....                                    .  49 

Separation  of  the  church  from  the  State  and  its  consequences,  -           5O 

Fanaticism  of  England,                          -  52 

Education  of  young  men  for  the  ministry  in  America,                 -  54 

In  England,        -  56 

Character  of  the  English  Clergy,  S4 

Of  the  American  Clergy,                                   -  70 

Of  American  Merchants,                            -  ib. 

Of  British  Merchants,  71 

Morals  and  Manners  of  the  Americans,                             -  7t 

Landjohbers,                   ....--«  ib. 

American  rudeness,                                                             •  -73 

Taverns,                          .           -  74 

English  Taverns,                 -            -  77 

American  WTomen,         -                                                              -  -                 79 

American  Slavery,                          -                                                -  -            80 

English,  81 

West  India,  83 

Redemptioners,              ...                                   %«  86 

American  intemperance,    --•-««-  87 

English  intemperance,             ...  88 


Xil  CONTENTS. 

Gouging,                              •  90 

Amusements  of  the  English,  -                                                    91 

Morals  of  Manchester,        -  92 

of  Birmingham,  -                        ....                 93 

of  London,  97 

Mediocrity  of  wealth  in  America,        -  -                           101 

Genius  and  Learning  of  Americans,  -         106 

Barlow's  Columbiad,  107 

Mac  Fingal,  •                       ib. 

Dr.  franklin,     -  -                                     .108 

Dr.  Rittenhouse,  -                       -                        -          109 

Hadley's  Quadrant,        -  111 

City  of  Washington,  -            .                         -             -          112 

Naval  Efforts  of  the  Americans,  IIS 

Debates  in  Congress,  -         114 

In  the  British  Parliament,  -                                                                                ib. 

Lord  Lauderdale,                 -  ib. 

Lord  Stanhope,  -                                                                           116 

Sir  Gregory  Page  Turner,  ib. 

Lord  Stanhope,  118 

Mr.  Drake,  jun.       -  -          119 

Earl  of  Abingdon,  -            -                                                                     121 

Morals  of  Parliament,        -  123 

Lord  Cochrane,  •                                                   124 

Decency,                               -  -                                    126 

JohnElwes,       -  -                                                                             ib. 

Lewdness  in  Great  Britain,  -                                  128 

Edinburgh  Reriew,        -  129 

Conductor  of  it,  130 

Language  of  the  United  States,  -                                                   1SS 

of  Great  Britain,  -                       -                                              140 

Account  of  British  Reviews,  -                       -                                   -               144 

Remarks  on  this  account,  -                        -                                              158 

on  this  abuse  of  the1  Americans,        -          -          -          -              165 


REMARKS,  &c. 


YOU  are  reported,  in  this  country,  to  have  in- 
stituted, and  to  controul,  a  literary  journal,  published 
in  London,  under  the  title  of  The  Quarterly  Review. 
Whether  the  report  is  just,  or  not,  I  am  unable  to  de- 
termine. If  it  is  just;  the  following  observations  are 
intentionally  directed  to  you.  If  not;  the  proper  ap- 
plication of  them  will  be  made  to  some  other  person, 
probably  unknown  to  the  public  as  the  principal 

patron. 

In  the  twentieth  number  of  this  work,  Art.  llth,  is 

a  review  of  a  production,  styled  "Inchiquin  the  Jesu- 
it's Letters,  during  a  late  residence  in  the  United  States 
of  America"  The  title  you  consider,  and  I  presume 
justly,  as  fictitious;  and  attribute  the  work  to  a  Phil- 
adelphian,  named  Ingersoll.  There  is  a  man  of  this 
name  in  that  city,  whom  the  inhabitants,  in  one  of 
those  fits  of  delirium,  which  often  seize  upon  large 
cities,  sent  as  their  Representative  to  Congress.  Here 
he  rendered  himself  in  a  very  short  time  both  odious 
and  contemptible;  and  received  such  a  flagellation  from 
the  Hon.  Mr.  Stockton,  of  New  Jersey,  as  neither  he 
nor  his  countrymen  will  soon  forget:  a  flagellation, 
you  will  permit  me  to  add,  (since  you  are  so  ready 
to  accuse  us  of  manual  violence,)  administered,  not 
with  the  hand,  but  with  the  tongue.  That  this  silly 
man  may  have  written  the  book,  of  which  you  speak; 
and  that  it  may  be  a  very  silly  book;  I  am  not  dis- 
posed to  question.  As  the  only  knowledge  of  it5 

which  I  possess,  is  derived  from  this  review,  I  am  no* 

3 


14  Mr.  Jefferson  and  Mr.  Madison. 

Warranted  to  contradict  any  assertions  concerning  it, 
which  are  made  by  the  reviewer.  Had  your  strictures 
been  confined  to  Inchiquin's  Letters;  you  would  nev- 
er have  heard  from  me. 

In  an  early  part  of  this  paper  you  inform  us,  that 
the  book  has  suggested  to  yo^  that  "it  might  not  be 
uninstructive,  or  unamusing  to  enquire  a  little  into  the 
character  of  the  people,  whom  its  Government  are 
thus  endeavouring  to  inflame  into  unextinguishable 
hatred  against  us,  and  whom  we  are  so  desirous  of 
conciliating."  "In  doing  this,"  you  tell  us,  "we  do  not 
profess  to  take  Inchiquin  for  our  only  guide;  but  shall 
avail  ourselves  of  many  partial,  and  scattered,  hints  to- 
wards a  correct  portrait  of  the  people  of  the  United 
States,  which  are  to  be  found  in  the  works  of  their 
own  artists,  as  well  as  in  those  of  foreigners,  who  have 
preceded  this  Jesuitical  author."  This  is  a  task,  upon 
which  you  have  entered  pretty  extensively  heretofore; 
and  which  has  been  assumed  by  several  other  literary 
journalists  ot  Great  Britain.  The  spirit,  with  which 
it  has  been  executed,  has  been  the  same:  and  it  may 
be  asserted  without  the  least  fear  of  well  founded  con- 
tradiction, that  it  is  the  very  spirit,  which  you  censure 
with  so  much  seventy;  equally  causeless;  equally  ma- 
lignant; equally  dishonourable  to  him,  by  whom  it  is 
cherished. 

There  are  two  subjects,  on  which  you  have  remark- 
ed extensively,  and  about  which  I  shall  give  myself 
little  concern.  These  are  the  characters,  and  the  ad- 
ministrations, of  Mr.  Jefferson  and  Mr.  Madison.  I 
am  a  federalist,  and  a  New  Englander;  a  Yankee,  as 
a  multitude  of  your  countrymen  choose  to  style  us, 
with  the  same  gentlemanly  spirit,  with  which  they  call 
the  French  frog-eaters;  the  Italians,  fiddlers;  and  the 


The  War.  15 

Russians,  bears;  with  which  they  see  nothing  in  the 
Scotch,  but  dirt  and  the  itch;  in  the  Irish,  nothing  but 
bulls,  and  lies;  and  in  the  Dutch,  nothing  but  smoak- 
ing,  cheating,  and  stupidity;  with  which  Dr.  Clarke, 
otherwise  a  worthy  man,  and  plainly  possessed  of  re- 
spectable talents,  declares,  that  every  Russian*  whom 
he  met,  was  a  rogue;  that  both  sexes  in  that  country, 
and  those  even  of  high  rank,  are  encrusted  with  filth, 
and  covered  with  vermin. 

There  is  not,  I  presume,  an  Englishman,  who  re- 
gards the  character,  and  politics,  of  Mr.  Jefferson,  and 
Mr.  Madison,  with  less  approbation  than  myself.  The 
former  I  consider  as  a  cunning,  the  latter  as  a  weak, 
man;  and  both,  as  hollow  in  their  professions,  insin- 
cere in  their  declarations,  disposed  without  reluctance 
to  sacrifice  their  country  to  the  acquisition,  and  reten- 
tion, of  power,  and  actually  sacrificing  it,  so  far  as  they 
have  been  able,  for  the  accomplishment  of  horrid,  and 
despicable  purposes.  In  the  progress  of  their  measures 
I  know  not  one,  which  wears  even  the  appearance  of 
patriotism,  or  principle. 

The  war,  existing  between  Great  Britain  and  this 
country,  of  which  you  complain  with  the  best  reason, 
is  in  my  opinion  unnatural,  impolitic  on  our  part, 
causeless,  and  unjust.  I  do  not  mean,  that  you  have 
given  us  no  grounds  for  complaint.  Your  Orders  in 
Council  were,  to  say  the  least,  of  a  very  questionable 
nature;  and  the  treatment,  which  our  commerce  has 
received  from  you,  both  before  and  since  that  period, 
is  incapable  of  any  vindication.  But  we,  also,  had  act- 
ed in  a  manner,  equally  censurable  towards  you.  It 
is  unnecessary,  that  I  should  recite  the  provocations, 
which  we  have  given  you.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that  France? 
to  whom  with  a  spirit  of  drivelling  infatuation  we  at> 


16  The  War. 

tached  ourselves,  had  injured  us  ten  times,  where  you 
had  done  it  once;  and  in  a  degree,  which  outran  cal- 
culation. Mr.  Jefferson,  a  Spaniel  where  Bonaparte 
was  concerned,  and,  while  he  thought  himself  safe 
under  the  imperial  and  royal  protection,  growling  and 
bristling  in  a  manner,  somewhat  formidable,  at  Great 
Britain,  thought,  poor  man!  that  Great  Britain  would 
certainly  cease  to  be  an  independent  nation  within 
twelve  months  from  the  date  of  the  treaty  concluded 
by  Messrs.  Munroe  and  Pinckney.  This,  he  himself 
declared  to  Dr.  Logan,  was  the  reason  why  he  reject- 
ed that  treaty:  a  reason,  for  alleging  which  a  child  ten 
years  old,  if  such  a  child  could  have  been  found,  who 
would  have  alleged  it, ought  to  have  been  whipped. 

At  this  time  the  British  nation  was  employed,  and 
had  for  many  years  been  employed,  in  defending 
what  was  left  of  the  liberty,  and  safety,  of  the  human 
race;  the  protestant  religion;  and  the  remains  of  liter- 
ature, arts,  science,  civilization,  and  happiness;  from 
the  jaws  of  the  Corsican  Cyclop.  The  expense,  which 
she  incurred,  the  bravery  of  her  fleets  and  armies,  the 
skill  and  conduct  of  her  officers,  the  wisdom  and  firm- 
ness of  her  councils,  and  the  unanimity,  patriotism  and 
perseverance,  of  her  inhabitants,  outrun  all  praise;  and 
surpass  every  preceding  example.  Blasted  be  the  wish- 
es of  the  man,  who  desires  to  see  your  nation  in  any 
other  than  prosperous  circumstances;  and  who  will 
not  rejoice  to  see  it  free,  virtuous  and  happy.  The 
human  race  are  your  debtors:  and  to  you,  under  God, 
it  is  owing  in  a  great  measure,  that  the  inhabitants  of 
this  country  are  in  possession  of  their  own  liberty  and 
independence.  I  say  this,  because  it  is  true:  and  not 
one  of  my  own  countrymen,  although  I  am  well 


The  War.  17 

aware  that  many  of  them  will  deny  the  position,  will 
be  able  to  refute  it. 

In  this  situation,  that  the  American  Government 
should  wish  success  to  Napoleon  was  equally  a  proof 
of  profligacy,  and  madness.  Should  he  succeed;  the 
only  boon,  which  could  be  expected  for  the  inhabit- 
ants of  this  country,  was  to  be  eaten  up  last;  and  the 
period  at  which  they  were  to  be  devoured,  was  at  so 
small  a  distance,  as  to  render  the  postponement  of  the 
crisis  scarcely  a  privilege. 

This  single  fact  tinctures  the  war,  deeply,  with  the 
character  of  ingratitude.  We  were  neutrals:  but  we 
had  the  same  interest  in  its  issue,  as  if  we  had  been  a 
party.  You  were  defending  our  interest;  while  we 
were  opposing  it.  Heaven  blessed  you  with  success: 
and  glory  be  to  the  Author  of  all  blessing,  that  he  was 
pleased  to  give  it  in  so  bountiful  a  manner. 

Far,  very  far,  however,  is  this  from  being  a  complete 
account  of  the  merits  of  your  countrymen.  They 
have  done  more  to  define,  and  perpetuate,  liberty;  to 
form  a  wise,  upright,  and  stable  government;  to  im- 
prove agriculture,  arts,  and  manufactures;  to  extend 
learning,  and  science;  and  to  advance  the  interests  of 
morality,  and  religion;  than  any  other  nation,  ancient 
or  modern.  Your  judicial  system  is  an  exhibition  of 
more  wisdom  than  can  be  found  in  the  internal  police 
of  any  spot  on  the  globe.  The  British  and  Foreign 
Bible  Society,  if  there  were  no  other  monument  of 
your  nation  to  be  left,  would  transmit  your  character 
to  future  generations  with  a  glory,  which  will  expire 
only  with  the  ages  of  time. 

With  the  Conduct  of  the  war,  on  our  part,  I  am  but 
little  better  pleased  than  with  the  original  declaration. 
The  plan  of  conquering  Canada  was  equally  iniqui- 


18  The  Conduct  of  the  War. 

tous,  and  absurd.  The  inhabitants  of  Upper  Cana- 
da were  chiefly  emigrants  from  the  United  States; 
and  left  behind  them  brothers  and  sisters,  parents  and 
children.  Those  of  Lower  Canada  were  perfectly 
friendly  to  us.  Neither  of  them  had  done  us  any 
wrong.  Yet  these  were  the  people,  who  were  to  un- 
dergo the  principal  sufferings  of  the  war;  and  no  rea- 
son could  be  assigned,  at  the  suggestion  of  which  an 
upright  man  would  not  blush,  why  we  should  be  wil- 
ling, that  they  should  suffer  at  all.  The  acquisition  of 
Canada  would  have  been  only  injurious  to  us.  To 
govern  it  has  cost  you  immense  sums.  The  United 
States  it  would  have  cost  much  more.  To  you  the  pos- 
session of  Canada  was  safe.  Were  that  country  ours; 
we  should  be  exposed  to  the  discontent,  turmoil,  and 
insurrections,  of  the  inhabitants:  evils,  to  which  no 
limits  can  be  foreseen;  and  the  expense  of  blood,  and 
treasure,  which  would  be  necessary  to  quell,  not  to  say 
exterminate/  them,  it  would  be  very  difficult  to  esti- 
mate: to  omit  what  is  much  more  important;  the  im- 
measurable guilt  of  bringing  the  miseries,  inseparable 
from  such  a  process,  upon  a  people,  to  whom  we  owe 
nothing  but  good  will. 

Our  Government  was  ill  informed,  and  weak, 
enough  to  believe  these  people  their  friends:  and  un- 
der this  persuasion  resolutely  attempted,  at  the  com- 
mencement of  the  war,  to  detach  them  from  their  all  e- 
giance,  and  their  interests.  Alternately,  they  were 
threatened,  and  courted:  and  the  same  hand  held  out 
to  them  the  torch  and  the  olive  branch.  The  Cana- 
dians wisely  disregarded  both;  and,  unterrified  by 
that  preeminent  specimen  of  barbarism,  the  procla- 
mation of  Gen.  Hull,  (dictated  for  that  officer,  as  I 
am  told  he  declares;  at  Washington,)  adhered  to  their 


The  Conduct  of  the  War.  19 

interest,  and  their  Sovereign.  Since  that  period  we 
have  done  what  was  in  our  power  to  alienate  them 
still  further,  and,  it  must  be  acknowledged,  have  been 
eminently  successful.  They  now  hate  us  as  cordially, 
as  we  can  desire;  and,  it  is  to  be  hoped,  that  even  the 
unsusceptible  mind  of  Mr.  Madison,  illustrious  as  he 
is  for  pertinacity,  has  already,  or  will  soon,  become  a 
convert  to  this  opinion.  If  not,  let  him  send  Gen.  Pe- 
ter B.  Porter  on  two  or  three  more  Indian  excursions 
into  that  country;  and  all  the  difficulties  in  the  way 
of  his  conversion  will  vanish. 

Gen.  Hull,  who  was  sent  at  the  commencement  of 
the  war  to  subdue  Upper  Canada,  and  who  had  ac- 
quired an  honourable  character  as  a  field  officer  in  the 
American  Revolution,  particularly  in  the  resistance 
made  to  Gen.  Burgoyue,  was  hurried  off  to  Detroit 
with  an  expedition,  which  indicated,  that  his  employ- 
ers supposed  he  had  nothing  to  do,  after  his  arrival, 
but  to  say  u  Ven i,  vidi,  vici;"  and  the  work  would  be 
done.  He  found  at  Detroit  half  an  army,  half  vict- 
ualled, half  clothed,  miserably  furnished  with  the  means 
of  making  war,  and  with  little  provision  for  their  own 
safety,  health,  or  comfort.  The  disastrous  issue  of  the 
enterprise  was  an  equal,  and  signal,  proof  of  the  folly 
of  those,  by  whom  it  was  originated,  and  of  the  jus- 
tice of  GOD. 

A  similar  character  must  be  given  of  the  succeed- 
ing attempts  of  Gens.  Dearborn,  Hampton,  and  Wil- 
kinson. An  examination  of  them,  here,  would  be  un- 
necessary and  tedious.  I  shall  not,  therefore,  weary 
myself  with  writing,  nor  you  with  reading  it.  It  will 
be  enough  to  say,  that  by  our  various  expeditions  in- 
to Canada  we  have  lost  much,  and  gained  nothing. 
We  have,  indeed,  inflicted  many  evils  upon  you.  Of 


£0  The  Conduct  oj  the  War. 

this  we  ought  to  be  ashamed;  and  for  it  we  have  been, 
and  hereafter  probably  may  be  still  more,  severely 
punished.  We  have  destroyed  your  people;  and  you, 
ours.  You  have  boasted  of  your  victories,  and  so  have 
we  of  ours;  and  both,  often  without  any  reason.  We 
have  burnt  your  villages;  and  you  have  burnt  ours. 
We  blew  up  the  parliament  house  at  Little  York; 
and  you  blew  up  the  American  Capitol,  and  the  Pres- 
ident's house,  at  Washington.  The  destruction  was 
in  both  cases  causeless,  and  wanton;  and  both  parties 
exhibited  themselves  as  mere  barbarians.  Yet  I  con- 
fess, we  set  you  the  example.  Sir  George  Prevost, 
however,  in  a  solemn  proclamation,  published  after 
trie  destruction  oiBnffalot  Creek,  and  its  environs,  de- 
clared, that  the  work  of  retaliation  had  been  carried 
sufficiently  far.  From  this  time  nothing  had  occurred, 
which  could  justify  the  ravages  at  Washington. 

In  your  attacks  upon  ttsyou  have  had  little  more 
success  than  we  in  ours  upon  you.  The  bargain  has 
been  a  losing  one  on  both  sides;  and  the  sooner  it  is 
terminated,  the  better.  A  little  common  sense,  and  a 
little  good  nature,  would  easily  bring  the  controversy 
to  a  close-  But  it  is  questionable  whether  your  govern- 
ment, or  ours,  will  very  soon  possess  enough  of  either 
to  effectuate  so  desirable  a  purpose.  That  ours  will, 
I  confess,  1  have  no  expectation. 

Your  History  of  the  progress  of  the  American  gov- 
ernment is  in  some  respects  just,  and  in  some  errone- 
ous. If  you  wish  to  see  the  subject  correctly  stated; 
you  wiil  find  it  exhibited  in  a  masterly  manner  by  the 
Hon.  Robert  Goodloe  Harper,  in  an  Address  to  his  fel- 
low citizens,  assembled  at  Annapolis,  to  celebrate  the 
victories  of  the  Allies  over  Napoleon.  Permit  me  to 
recommend  this  work  to  you?  although  it  is  an  Amer- 


The  American  Rulers.  21 

ican  production,  and  written  in  a  country,  which  you 
think  a  land  of  barbarism  and  blunders.  It  will 
afford  you  much  useful  instruction,  which  you  cannot 
get  elsewhere;  and  will  teach  you  to  write  with  a  bet- 
ter spirit,  and  in  better  language.  At  the  same  time  it 
will  gratify  your  spleen  against  one  class  of  the  Amer- 
icans by  shewing  you  the  unworthy  character,  and 
disgraceful  conduct,  of  the  leaders  of  that  class;  and 
the  base  manner,  in  which  they  collected,  and  arrang- 
ed, their  political  party.  The  expectation  of  being 
gratified  in  this  respect,  will,  I  hope,  induce  you  to 
read  the  bookJtti 

The  first  theme  of  your  censure  is  made  up  of  our 
Rulers,  and  their  Administration.  On  this  subject  I 
presume  you  will  hardly  demand  of  me  more  liberal 
concessions  than  those,  which  I  have  already  made. 
Let  us  now  turn  our  eyes  to  Great  Britain;  and  see 
whether  in  this  respect  our  character  will  suffer  by  a 
comparison  with  yours.  Mr.  Jefferson  and  Mr. 
Madison  are,  we  will  suppose,  weak  men.  To  the 
former,  indeed,  you  allow  a  plausible  address,  and 
considerable  talents:  and  it  must  be  acknowledged,  that 
he  possesses,  in  no  contemptible  degree,  the  talent, 
which  is  styled  Cunning.  As  to  talents  of  any  other 
nature,  I  will  leave  him  to  display  and  his  friends  to 
admit  them.  Place  both  these  Magistrates  as  low  as 
you  please.  Were  they  weaker  men  than  your  John, 
Stephen,  Henry  HI,  Henry  VI,  Edward  II,  James  I, 
Charles  II,  and  James  II?  Could  not  as  many,  and 
those  equally  ridiculous  and  contemptible,  things  be 
written,  even  now,  concerning  each  of  these  men,  as 
concerning  the  two  American  Chiefs?  Were  not  both 
their  private  conduct,  and  their  public  policy,  at  least 
4 


22          Mr.  Jefferson  and  Mr.  Madison. 

as    despicable;    Englishmen    themselves    being  the 
Judges. 

But  uthe  American  Rulers  are  grossly  vicious 
men."  The  private  deportment  of  Mr.  Madison  is,  I 
believe,  altogether  decent,  so  far  as  what  is  commonly 
styled  morality,  is  concerned.  It  is  true,  he  makes  no 
pretensions  to  the  character  of  a  religious  man.  But, 
I  believe,  he  never  swears,  gets  drunk,  frequents  the 
gambling  table,  nor  keeps  a  mistress.  How  small,  Sir, 
do  you  think,  is  the  number  of  your  princes,  of  whom 
this  could  be  said  with  truth?  Look  back,  if  you 
please,  upon  the  list  which  I  have  set  before  you;  and 
tell  me  how  many  it  contains,  who  were  not  blots, 
and  brands,  upon  the  character  of  man. 

You  complain,  and  justly,  of  the  hypocritical  pol- 
itics, and  false  professions,  of  these  Presidents.  Mr. 
Madison9 s  hypocrisy  is  clumsy,  and  awkward.  Mr. 
Jefferson's  is  adroit,  and  sits  upon  him  like  an  accom- 
plishment; and,  visible  as  it  always  was  to  men  of 
sense  and  integrity,  has  nevertheless  satisfied  his  party., 
and  kept  them  in  order.  That  of  Charles  II,  though 
he  was  plainly  inferiour  to  Mr.  Jefferson  in  talents, 
was  equally  efficacious  in  controuling  the  principal 
men,  and  the  great  body,  of  the  English  nation.  Not 
only  did  they  unite  very  generally  in  his  profligate  and 
ruinous  measures,  but  addressed  him,  and  spoke  of 
him  publicly  and  privately,  in  terms  of  the  most  exag- 
gerated and  fulsome  adulation;  such  as  on  a  modern 
ear  produces  effects,  very  similar  to  those,  which  are 
experienced  by  the  palate,  when  tasting  Ipecacuanha. 
A  few  of  the  distinguished  Ministers  of  your  church, 
and  a  few  illustrious  Laymen,  opposed  the  abominable 
measures  of  this  fiend  in  human  shape;  but  the  rest; 
your  Clergy,  Nobles,  Parliament,  and  People;  united 


Slave- Trade.  23- 

together  in  a  vast  mob,  and  followed  with  a  hue  and 
cry  of  applause  this  vile  man,  who  was  labouring  to 
destroy  at  once  their  liberty  and  their  religion. 

You  complain  of  the  injustice  of  our  Rulers  to 
Great  Britain.  Admit  it.  Turn  your  eyes,  if  you 
please,  upon  your  own  country.  Recollect  the  mis- 
eries, which  you  have  brought  upon  the  people  of 
Hindoostan,  and  upon  the  wretched  inhabitants  of 
Africa.  Follow  for  a  moment  your  Slave- factors, 
prowling  through  this  unhappy  region,  like  a  col  lee  - 
tion  of  wolves  and  tygers,and  destroying  by  the  wars, 
which  they  kindled,  an  endless  multitude  of  the  inhab- 
itants, for  the  purpose  of  selling  another  endless  multi- 
tude into  hopeless,  agonizing  bondage;  of  whom  one 
half  perished  on  the  way,  and  the  other  became  vic- 
tims, at  no  distant  period,  to  toil,  and  torture. 

You  will  tell  me,  perhaps,  that  we  are  equally,  and 
even  more,  interested  in  this  charge  than  yourselves; 
that  we  have  not  only  been  active  in  this  infamous 
traffic,  but  have  bought,  and  kept,  and  still  keep,  these 
miserable  people  in  bondage.  Softly,  Sir.  Our  own 
share  in  this  business  was  all  begun,  and  carried  on, 
under  your  patronage,  and  controul.  When  we  form- 
ed our  National  Constitution,  the  States  stipulated,  in 
effect,  that  after  the  year  1808  the  importation  of 
slaves  should  cease.  To  this  stipulation  the  slave- 
holding  States  were  parties:  and  it  was  the  earliest 
dereliction  of  this  iniquitous  traffic,  to  which  they 
would  consent.  Blame  them  for  this  part  of  their 
conduct  as  much  as  you  please.  I  shall  feel  no  in- 
ducement to  refute  the  charge.  The  other  States 
either  abolished  slavery  in  their  Constitutions  at  the 
first  moment  of  their  political  existence;  or  exterminat  • 


24  Oppression  of  the  Hindoos. 

ed  it  by  the  earliest  emancipation,  which  was  in  their 
power.     This  was  particularly  true  of  New  England. 

You  will  perhaps  reply,  that  Great  Britain  has 
performed  the  same  act  of  justice  in  a  manner  still 
more  efficacious.  1  rejoice  in  it.  The  name  of  Wil* 
berforce,  Sharp,  Clarkson,  and  their  associates,  I  re- 
gard with  all  the  respect,  which  can  be  due  to  mere 
men;  and  hail  with  inexpressible  delight  the  triumph, 
atchieved  by  them  at  the  end  of  a  war,  of  near  20 
years,  over  Liverpool  slave-dealers,  over  West  Indian 
slave-holders,  and  over  all  the  phalanx  of  avarice,  bar- 
barity, and  oppression.  They  have  erected  to  them- 
selves a  monument  of  glory,  cere  perennius. 

At  the  same  time  I  remember  with  no  small  morti- 
fication the  hostility,  the  abuse,  the  base  passions,  and 
the  despicable  sentiments,  which  through  this  long 
period  they  were  obliged  to  encounter;  not  only  from 
the  West  Indian  slave  holders,  and  the  Liverpool 
slave- merchants,  who,  together  with  their  friends, 
found  their  way  into  your  Senate,  but  in  many  instan- 
ces, also,  from  the  independent  Gentlemen,  and  even 
from  the  Noblemen,  of  your  country.  We  accom- 
plished the  business  with  much  less  difficulty;  notwith- 
standing a  great  part  of  our  Convention,  and  after- 
wards of  our  Congress,  was  composed  of  those,  whose 
property  consisted  extensively  in  slaves. 

In  Hlndoostan  your  public  conduct  was  for  a  long 
period,  and  until  very  lately,  so  oppressive  to  the  mis- 
erable inhabitants,  that  persons  of  the  first  distinction  in 
Great  JBritain  branded  it  with  the  deepest  shame. 
You  have  begun  a  reformation,  at  which  every  good 
man  rejoices.  Our  conduct  toward  the  Aborigines  of 
our  country,  though  scandalous,  is  far  from  being 
equally  infamous  with  yours  towards  the  Hindoos? 


The  British  Royal  Family.  25 

and  the  name  of  Harrison  will  go  down  to  posterity 
with  less  infamy,  than  those  of  C/k>e,and  Sykes.  But, 
in  this  respect,  you  have  begun  to  reform:  we  have 
not. 

Very  unpleasant  tales  hang  upon  the  private  charac- 
ter of  Mr.  Jefferson;  but  he  never  sacrificed  his  own 
daughter,  as  James  the  1st.  did  the  wife  of  the  Elector 
Palatine;  nor  his  own  friend,  as  the  same  miserable 
prince  did  Sir  Walter  Raleigh:  and  his  life,  with  the  ut- 
most enormities  attributed  to  it.cannot  be  placed  by  the 
side  of  that  brute  in  human  shape,  Charles  the  2d.  Nor 
did  he  more  directly,  more  universally,  or  more  wan- 
tonly, sacrifice  the  interests  of  the  country,  which  he 
governed.  It  has  not  yet  been  proved,  that  he  was  a 
pensioner  of  France;  nor  was  his  servile  dependence 
on  Bonaparte  so  servile  as  that  of  Charles  on  Louis 
\Uh.  Nor  is  the  war,  in  which  we  are  now  involved, 
more  despicable,  or  more  directly  injurious  to  our  in- 
terests, than  the  second  Dutch  war,  carried  on  by 
Charles  in  obedience  to  Louis,  was  to  those  of  Great 
Britain.  Charles's  whole  private  life  was  a  mere 
mass  of  putrefaction. 

While  we  are  on  this  subject,  let  me  turn  your  atten- 
tion for  a  moment  to  the  behaviour  of  some  of  the 
members  of  the  present  reigning  Family.  Recal  to 
your  remembrance  for  a  single  moment  the  story  of 
Mrs.  Fitzherbert;  the  present  situation  of  the  Princess 
of  Wales;  the  story  of  "The  Book;"  the  history  of 
the  Marchioness  of  Yarmouth;  and  a  few  other  items, 
of  the  same  unfortunate  nature;  particularly  the  whole 
history  of  the  Duke  of  York.  It  is  enough  for  me 
to  direct  the  eye  of  an  Englishman  to  these  objects?, 
I  shall  not  insist  upon  them. 


£6  Character  of  British  Traveller*. 

To  these,  however,  I  could,  as  you  very  easily 
know,  add  a  terrible  list,  if  I  were  to  go  back  through 
the  history  of  your  Government.  To  say  nothing  of 
the  infernal  spirit  of  Mary  the  Is?,  the  capricious  and 
brutal  violence  of  her  Father,  and  the  enormous  avar- 
ice of  her  Grandfather;  what  do  you  think  of  the  ex- 
ecution of  Mary,  Queen  of  Scots,  and  the  barbarous 
treatment  of  several  of  her  own  subjects,  by  your 
<?good  queen  Bess"  If  the  character  of  rulers  is  to 
stamp  that  of  a  nation;  there  are,  I  fear,  very  few  peri- 
ods of  your  history,  which  will  bear  an  examination 
How  few  of  your  Edwards  and  Henrys,  of  whom 
you  boast  so  much,  although  several  of  them  possess- 
ed great  talents,  were  men  of  even  a  decent  character. 
Antecedently  to  the  present  reigning  Family,  three  or 
four  princes  will,  I  suspect,  be  all,  whom  you  would 
choose  to  name  as  persons  of  unblemished  reputation. 

You  cannot  but  observe,  Sir,  the  tenderness,  with 
which  I  have  treated  your  country,  nor  failed  to  have 
remarked  the  contrast,  exhibited  in  it  to  the  brutal 
Billingsgate,  with  which  you  have  insulted  mine.  The 
facts,  which  you  have  alleged,  you  have  drawn  almost 
wholly  from  British  travellers;  who,  with  a  few  ex- 
ceptions, have  either  from  ignorance,  or  dishonesty, 
or  both,  so  extensively  violated  truth,  as  to  persuade 
the  inhabitants  of  this  country  to  doubt  the  soundness 
of  all  books  of  travels.  The  proverbial  language, 
here,  concerning  this  subject  is,  "What  reason  have 
we  to  suppose,  that  other  travellers  are  more  honest 
than  these;  or  that  they  are  better  informed?  Both 
their  mistakes,  and  their  falsehoods,  are  innumerable. 
Their  works,  instead  of  being  portraits  of  this  country, 
are  caricatures.  If  they  have  drawn  other  countries 
in  the  same  manner;  we  know  them  from  these  writ- 


American  Legislature.  27 

ings,  only  as  we  know  the  character  of  a  man  from 
the  calumnies  of  his  enemies,  or  the  ribaldry  of  his 
satirists." 

There  is,  however,  another  source  of  error,  from 
which  both  they  and  you,  take  occasion  to  indulge 
the  love,  and  the  malignity  of  misrepresentation,  with 
some  advantage  to  yourselves,  and  gross  injustice  to 
us.  Your  travellers  lay  hold  on  a  news-paper  para- 
graph, an  abusive  pamphlet,  or  a  scandalous  tale,  which 
they  heard  recited  in  conversation;  and  from  one  or 
other  of  these  sources  derive  some  fact,  or  facts,  which 
have  really  existed.  The  facts  themselves,  in  which 
only  one,  or  a  few  individuals  were  concerned,  you 
attribute  to  classes  of  men;  and  derive  from  them  con- 
clusions, which  you  fasten  on  the  whole  American 
people. 

With  the  same  equity  you  seize  upon  a  custom,  or 
characteristic,  existing  in  a  greater  or  less  degree  in 
some  part  of  this  country,  and  without  qualification 
attribute  it  to  the  inhabitants  universally.  With  equal 
truth  might  you  ascribe  the  manners  of  Kamschatka 
to  the  people  of  St.  Petersburgh,  and  those  of  the 
Cornwall  wreckers  to  the  citizens  of  Westminster.  In 
this  manner  what  is  originally  true  in  your  details  is 
'changed  into  falsehood;  and  facts  are  perverted  to  the 
purposes  of  slander. 

Your  second  attack  is  made  on  our  National  Leg- 
islature. You  sift  the  character  of  the  Electors,  and 
their  Representatives;  and  inform  us  from  Peter  Porcu- 
pine, (Pray,  Sir,  did  you  go  to  the  gaol,  in  which  he  lay 
confined  by  one  of  your  courts  of  justice,  for  libelling 
your  Government,  to  get  this  tale  from  him?)  that  "in 
America  the  man  of  the  people  is  one,  who  frequentt 
the  grog-shops,  smokes  a  cigar,  and  harangues  the 


£8  John  Wilkes,  Sykes,  and  Burdelt. 

ulace  with  violent  abuse  of  the  hostile  faction. "  You 
then  tell  us  of  a  man,  "who  had  married  a  free  black- 
woman  in  the  West  Indies,  had  several  children  by 
her,  robbed  and  left  her,  went  to  the  U.  S.  married 
another  wife,  and,  '-with  all  these  blushing  honours 
thick  upon  him,"  was  elected  a  member  of  the  Senate," 
We  have  undoubtedly  scandalous  members  in  our 
Congress.  "Pray,  Sir,  what  think  you  of  John  Wilkes, 
elected  into  your  Parliament  by  the  proud  city  of 
London;  of  which  you  and  your  countrymen  boast 
in  much  the  same  terms  with  those,  in  which  Neb- 
uchadnezzar boasted  of  Babylon;  of  John  Wilkes 
elected  a  member  of  Parliament  by  the  city  of  Lon- 
don; expelled  by  the  House  of  Commons,  and  by 
the  same  city  elected  a  second  time;  of  John  Wilkes, 
who  wrote  the  Essay  on  Woman,  a  mass  of  corrup- 
tion and  impiety,  such  as  probably  the  world  never  saw 
before;  of  John  Wilkes,  elected  at  the  very  time  when 
this  putrid  production  came  to  light,  and  thus  sanc- 
tioned and  supported,  in  this  stupendous  iniquity,  by 
the  public  voice  of  that  great  city?  What  think  you  of 
Sykes,  who  was  elected  member  of  your  Parliament, 
after  having  starved  in  India  one  million  of  people  by 
purchasing  the  rice,  on  which  alone  they  were  to  live, 
and  refusing  to  sell  it  again  till  he  could  obtain  the 
price,  put  upon  it  by  his  own  avarice?  What  think 
you  of  Sir  Francis  Burdett,  the  representative  of 
your  polite  city  of  Westminster?  For  his  character  I 
need  not  refer  you  to  the  books,  whence  I  have  learn- 
ed it.  I  refer  you  to  your  own  knowledge.  Now, 
Sir,  permit  me  to  ask,  Do  you  believe,  that  any 
scoundrels  in  the  American  Congress  are  greater 
scoundrels  than  these;  or  that  any  Orator  of  a  stump 
in  the  Southern  States,  or  any  backwoodsman  in 


American  Elections.  29 

Kentucky,  Ohio,  or  Tennessee,  ever  deserved  to  be 
hanged  half  as  many  times? 

Let  me  remind  you,  also,  that  this  custom  of 
haranguing  a  mob,  as  means  of  obtaining  an  election, 
is  derived  from  Great  Britain;  that  the  names  of 
Fox,  and  Burke,  are  enrolled,  as  well  as  those  of 
Wilkes  and  Burdett,  among  your  field  orators;  and 
that  although  they  did  not  mount  a  hogshead,  or  a 
stump,  the  difference  of  the  rostrum  makes  no  differ- 
ence in  the  practice,  to  the  eye  either  of  morality,  or 
taste;  that,  although  they  were  probably  more  elo- 
quent than  the  Ciceros  of  Kentucky,  or  Tennessee, 
and  somewhat  more  learned;  and  thus  were  able,  like 
Virgil,  "to  toss  about  their  dung  with  an  air  of  maj- 
esty;" yet  the  superiority  of  their  character  serves  only 
to  display  the  conduct  with  more  deformity;  and  that 
the  higher  your  claims  of  intelligence  and  refinement 
are,  the  deeper  is  your  disgrace  on  account  of  this  bar- 
barism. Permit  me  further  to  inform  you,  that  this 
practice  has  no  existence  north  of  Maryland. 

You  observe  that  "every  free  man  in  America,  aye 
and  free  woman  too,  is  a  voter,  and  every  one  is  free, 
who  declares  himself  to  be  worth  fifty  pounds;"  and, 
you  add,  "None  thinks  of  boggling,  if  required,  to 
swear  to  this  qualification;  none  more  expert  at  an 
evasion  or  equivocation  than  a  citizen  of  the  United 
States." 

These  declarations,  Sir,  are,  it  must  be  owned,  very 
candid,  and  very  gentlemanly.  Some  of  them  I  will 
examine  here:  others  I  shall  notice  in  the  sequel. 
You  say  that  every  freeman  in  America  is  a  voter. 
If  you  intend,  that  every  man  is  a  voter  who  is  not  a 
slave,  the  assertion  is  a  falsehood,  supremely  scanda- 
lous to  you,  because  it  is  hardly  possible,  that  you 
5 


SO  American  Elections* 

should  not  have  known  it  to  be  false;  and  because 
such  ignorance  would  be  scarcely  less  disgraceful  to  a 
man  of  your  political  character  than  the  untruth.  If 
you  intend,  what  the  word  is  used  to  denote  in  this 
country,  that  every  man  who  possesses  the  right  of 
voting  is  a  voter;  the  assertion  is  true:  and  I  congratu- 
late you  on  the  profoundness  of  the  discovery. 

But  you  say  "every  free-woman  in  this  country  is 
a  voter.'7  In  the  Constitution  of  New  Jersey,  phrase- 
ology, admitted,  as  I  understand,  by  mere  inadverten- 
cy, was  supposed  by  some  of  its  inhabitants  to  give 
the  right  of  voting  to  women:  and  in  a  very  small 
number  of  instances,*  and  within  very  limited  districts, 
women  have  acted  as  voters.  This,  Sir,  is  the  only 
foundation  on  which  rests  your  broad  assertion,  that 
every  free- woman  in  America  is  a  voter.  From  a 
person  who  sports  with  truth  in  this  manner,  what 
can  be  expected,  but  such  a  foul  mass  of  falsehood 
and  abuse,  as  is  contained  in  the  Review  of  the  Let- 
ters of  Inchiquin? 

The  terms  on  which  men  are  admitted  to  the  elective 
franchise  in  this  country,  are  far  from  according  with 
my  own  wishes.  In  some  of  the  States  they  are  bet- 
ter, and  in  others  worse,  than  in  Great  Britain.  In- 
one  respect  they  are  immeasurably  better.  We  give 
the  right  to  men  of  every  description,  who  possess  the 
personal  character,  and  the  pecuniary  qualifications, 
specified  by  the  law.  We  do  not  confine  the  election 
to  particular  trades,  nor  to  particular  spots  of  ground. 
We  have  no  Old  Sarums,  where  one  man  sends  two 
members  to  Parliament;  and  no  Birminghams, 
where  eighty  thousand  do  not  send  one.  Every 

*  I  know  jbut  one  instanee. 


British  House  of  Commons.  31 

thirty  five  thousand  freeborn  inhabitants  are  empow- 
ered to  send  one  member  to  Congress,  and  every  man 
in  this  list,  who  possesses  the  personal  character,  and 
pecuniary  qualifications,  required  by  law,  either  has, 
or  may  at  his  option  have,  a  right  to  vote  for  this 
member.  Now,  Sir,  we  Americans  believe,  that  this  is 
a  more  equitable  method  of  conferring  the  right  of 
election  than  that,  which  is  adopted  in  Great  Britain, 
That,  as  described  by  a  writer,*  to  whose  authority 
you  will  not  object,  is  the  following.  "The  House  of 
Commons  consists  of  five  hundred  and  forty  eight 
members;  of  whom  two  huodred  are  elected  by  seven 
thousand  constituents:  so  that  a  majority  of  these 
seven  thousand  without  any  reasonable  title  to  supe- 
riour  weight  or  influence  in  the  state,  may,  under  cer- 
tain circumstances,  decide  a  question  against  the  opin- 
ion of  as  many  millions.  Or,  to  place  the  same  ob- 
ject in  another  point  of  view:  if  my  estate  be  situated 
In  one  county  of  the  kingdom,  I  possess  the  ten  thous- 
andth part  of  a  single  representative;  if  in  another 
the  thousandth;  if  in  a  particular  district;  I  may  be 
one  in  twenty,  who  choose  two  representatives;  if  in 
a  still  more  favored  spot,  I  may  enjoy  the  right  of 
appointing  two,  myself.  Or  thirdly,  to  describe  the 
state  of  national  representation  as  it  exists  in  reality,  it 
may  be  affirmed,  I  believe,  with  truth,  that  about  one 
half  of  the  House  of  Commons  obtain  their  seats  in 
that  assembly  by  the  election  of  the  people;  the  other 
half  by  purchase,  or  by  the  nomination  of  single 
proprietors  of  great  estates"  This  picture,  Sir,  is  de- 
formed: the  original  cannot  be  very  beautiful.  It 
may  be  beyond  your  power  to  adopt  a  better  mode. 
It  was  within  ours;  and  we  adopted  it. 

*  Paley's  Mor.  PL;! 


3£  Coventry  Election. 

Yet  you  say,  "The  popular  representation  in  the 
United  States  is  a  great  fallacy,  and  a  complete  fraud, 
On  the  people:  and  we  agree  with  him,  (the  Jesuit,) 
that  the  Turkish  Constitution,  which  calls  a  leader  to 
his  post  by  acclamation,  may  just  as  well  be  called  a 
popular  representation."  And  do  you  really  believe, 
Sir,  that  our  representation  is  not  as  fair,  as  that,  in 
which  the  one  half  of  the  representatives  obtain  their 
seats  by  purchase  or  by  the  nomination  of  single  pro- 
prietors of  great  estates?  I  should  not  have  thought 
that  even  a  Reviewer,  accustomed  as  he  is  to  say  eve- 
ry thing,  which  may  gratify  the  passions  and  preju- 
dices of  himself,  and  his  party,  could  have  said  this 
without  recalling,  at  least  for  one  moment,  the  blush, 
so  long  exiled  from  his  cheeks. 

If  our  people  are  not  as  fairly  represented  as  those 
of  England,  the  want  of  fairness  must  be  derived,  not 
from  the  principle,  but  from  abuses  of  it  in  the  practice. 
That  we  are  guilty  of  many  such  abuses,  I  am  not 
disposed  to  question. 

Read,  if  you  please,  Sir,  the  following  account  of  an 
election  in  Coventry,  in  the  year  1805;  written  by  a 
gentleman  of  more  respectability  than  all  your  travel- 
lers in  America  united.  "I  had  heard  much  of  Eng- 
lish elections,  and  thought  myself  very  fortunate  in 
having  an  opportunity  to  see  the  bustle  of  such  an 
occasion.  But  I  am  quite  satisfied  with  one  exhibition 
of  the  kind;  nor  do  I  wish  ever  to  behold  another. 
For  never  before  did  I  witness  such  a  scene  of 
drunkenness,  uproar,  and  riot.  The  genius  of  Mac 
Fingal,  or  of  Hudibras,  alone  could  convey  to  you  an 
adequate  idea  of  a  state  of  things,  in  which  was  most 
forcibly  exhibited  the  majesty  of  the  sovereign  people, 
exercising  the  right  of  unbiassed  suffrage." 


Coventry  Election.  S$ 

"It  seems,  that  the  voters  at  English  elections  do 
not  necessarily  reside  on  the  spot;  many  live  in  remote 
towns;  and,  when  the  period  of  election  arrives,  arc 
transported  to  the  place  by  the  candidates,  whose 
cause  they  espouse,  and  are  maintained  by  them  free 
of  expense  during  the  contest,  which  frequently  lasts 
two  or  three  weeks.  It  is  stated  in  extenuation  of 
this  practice,  that  some  of  the  electors,  and  especially 
mechanics  and  labourers,  cannot  afford  to  leave  their 
homes,  and  pursuits,  to  travel  to  a  distant  county,  and 
remain  at  their  own  charge  during  a  contested  eJeo 
tion;  and  that,  therefore,  it  is  but  reasonable,  that  the 
candidates  should  sustain  this  expense.  However 
plausible  this  statement  may  appear,  it  is  certain,  that 
it  is  only  an  apology  for  an  indirect  species  of  bribery, 
not  less  effectual  than  the  direct  giving  of  money.  For 
under  the  pretence  of  maintaining  their  voters,  the  can- 
didates buy  them  with  wine,  whiskey,  and  dinners- 
for  he  is  always  the  best  patriot,  who  gives  the  peo- 
ple the  most  good  things." 

"The  poll  was  held  in  a  building,  which  appeared  to 
be  the  market;  and  the  respective  parties  were  striv- 
ing, each  to  prevent  the  other  from  getting  up  to  the 
poll,  to  give  their  votes.  For  this  purpose  they  did 
not  hesitate  to  use  every  degree  of  violence,  short  of 
blows.  The  contest  was  principally  in  pushing.  The 
two  contending  parties  were  arranged  in  opposition 
like  two  armies.  When  they  came  up  to  the  poll,  the 
two  fronts  met;  and  in  every  instance  a  violent  con-, 
test  ensued:  hands  to  hands,  face  to  face,  and  shoulder 
to  shoulder:  and  when  one  party  gave  way,  the  other 
would  press  tumultuausly  on  till  all  fell  in  a  promiscu- 
ous heap.  Then  the  victorious  party  rising  from  off 
.their  fallen  antagonists,  would  shout,  vociferating 


34  Coventry  Election. 

huzzas,  throwing  their  hats  into  the  air,  and  making 
it  ring  with  Mills!  Mills!  or  Parry!  Parry!  according 
as  one  or  the  other  prevailed.  In  these  contests,  which 
appeared  to  be  in  the  main  rather  good  natured, 
individuals  occasionally  kindled  into  a  rage;  and 
bloody  noses  and  torn  coats  and  shirts  were  usually 
the  consequence.  I  saw  one  man  who  had  lost  half 
his  coat,  and  half  his  shirt;  and  his  bleeding  back  and 
face  were  marked  with  the  talons  of  some  rival  voter.'5 

Such,  Sir,  is  the  description  of  one  of  your  elec- 
tions. Were  such  an  one  to  exist  in  New  England; 
it  would  form  an  sera  in  our  history;  would  cover 
with  infamy  both  the  electors  and  the  candidates;  and 
so  long  as  it  was  remembered,  would  scandalize  their 
posterity.  1  have  lived  long  in  this  country;  and  have 
never  yet  known  a  single  shilling  given  to  purchase  a 
vote.  That  it  may  have  been  done  in  solitary  instan- 
ces, since  the  asra  of  Mr.  Jefferson's  inauguration 
may  be  true:  but  the  instances  must  have  been  very 
few.  Compare  this  with  the  following  declaration  of 
the  same  gentleman.  "The  parties  were  very  nearly 
equal  in  numbers:  the  contest  had  already  continued 
several  days:  and  it  was  thought  it  would  cost  JV/r. 
Parry  twenty  thousand  pounds"  You  will  remem- 
ber, that  this  is  not  one  of  those  elections,  "which," 
Dr.  Paley  informs  us,  "are  obtained  by  purchase." 

But  we  are  not  at  the  end  of  our  progress.  The 
writer  goes  on:  "I  know  not  whether  this  election  is 
to  be  regarded  as  a  fair  sample  of  similar  things  in 
England;  but  I  heard  a  gentleman  say,  at  Liverpool, 
that  these  contests  sometimes  end  in  blood;  that  he 
had  seen  them  on  some  occasions  unpave  a  whole 
street;  when  every  window,  and  lamp,  would  fly  to 
pieces." 


Coventry  Election.  35 

And  again:  "The  mob  were  all  monarchs:  for  they 
were  all  noisy,  and  all  drunk."  "The  alternate  vic- 
tors, in  the  intervals  of  the  contests,  sung  a  kind  of 
chorus,  with  loud  acclamations,  frantic  gestures,  and 
convulsive  expressions  of  joy  in  their  features.  The 
bottle  went  round  merrily  over  the  heads  of  the  pop- 
ulace; and  it  was  amusing  enough  to  see  the  address, 
used  to  get  it  to  the  mouth.  The  crowd  was  so 
great,  and  such  the  eagerness  to  seize  the  bottle,  that  it 
was  constantly  held  up  at  arm's  length  above  the  head: 
and  thus  it  was  moved  on  in  the  air;  one  man  wrest- 
ing it  from  another:  and  sometimes  half  a  dozen  had 
hold  of  it  at  once.  At  length  some  one,  more  reso- 
lute than  his  neighbours,  or  less  drunk  than  they, 
would  grasp  the  bottle;  and,  when  with  much  effort  it 
had  acquired  a  determination  towards  a  particular 
throat,  so  great  was  the  jostling,  and  shoving,  that  the 
wide-mouthed  expectant  would  sometimes  make  sev- 
eral unsuccessful  attempts  to  close  his  lips  upon  the 
nozzle;  and  in  the  mean  time  the  liquor  would  be 
running  in  streams  into  his  face  and  bosom." 

You  should  not  complain  of  American  rudeness: 
you  live  in  a  glass  house. 

Still  we  are  not  at  the  end  of  our  progress.  The 
same  Writer  goes  on:  "Even  the  softer  sex  seemed  to 
be  inspired  with  the  madness  of  the  occasion.  They 
were  to  be  seen  standing  on  heads  of  barrels,  on  the 
street  railings,  and  wherever  else  they  could  find  situ* 
ations  a  little  more  elevated,  and  secure,  than  the 
ground:  and  occasionally  they  mixed  with  the  crowd,, 
joined  in  the  strife  and  acclamations,  and  encouraged 
their  husbands,  brothers,  and  lovers,  by  reproaches 
and  praises,  frowns  and  applauses,  according  as  the 


36  Coventry  Election. 

parties  whose  cause  they  favoured,  were  victorious  or 
defeated." 

It  seems,  Sir,  that  although  the  free  women  of  Coventry 
are  not  voters,  they  esteem  it  no  impropriety  to  appear 
at  your  elections;  are  seen  standing  on  heads  of  bar" 
yds  like  the  American  orators,  whom  you  mention- 
ed above;  that  they  climb  the  street  railings,  and  take 
other  positions  of  the  like  delicate  nature;  that  occasion- 
ally they  mix  with  the  crowd,  join  in  the  strife  and  ac- 
clamations, and  encourage  their  husbands,  brothers, 
and  lovers,  by  reproaches  and  praises,  frowns  and  ap- 
plauses. Certainly,  Sir,  you  ought  to  have  summoned 
a  little  prudence,  if  not  a  little  truth  to  your  aid  before 
you  put  this  unfortunate  declaration  upon  your 
paper:  '-Every  free  woman  in  America  is  a  voter." 
No  free  woman  in  America  "stands,  Sir,  on  the  head 
of  a  barrel;  climbs  a  street  railing;  mixes  with  a 
drunken  crowd,  over  the  heads  of  which  a  bottle 
moves  on  in  the  air,  until  one  less  drunk  than  his 
neighbours  grasps  it,  and  gives  it  a  determined  direc- 
tion towards  his  own  throat;  or,  being  disappointed, 
turns  the  stream  into  his  face  and  bosom."  Coventry^ 
Sir,  is  one  of  your  cities;  not  a  frontier  settlement  in 
the  wilds  of  America.  It  is  the  see  of  a  Bishop.  If 
these  are  the  manners  of  it's  citizens;  if  this  is  a  Cov- 
entry election;  if  such  is  the  conduct  of  the  free  wo- 
men in  Coventry;  what  are  we  to  suppose  concerning 
those  of  your  villages? 

The  American  free  women  do  not  seat  themselves  in 
their  coaches,  (for  coaches  really  exist  in  this  barbarous 
land,  and  free  women  sometimes  ride  in  them,)  and 
ride  through  the  streets  of  Philadelphia,  New  York,  or 
Boston,  to  beg  votes  for  a  candidate,  as  did  the  Duch- 
ess of  Devonshire  through  the  streets  of  Westmin* 

•J  ti 


New  England  Elections.  37 

ster  to  solicit  them  for  the  right  honourable  Charles  J. 
Fox:  nor,  when  solicitations  fail,  do  they  present  their 
lily  hands,  much  less  their  ruby  lips  to  be  kissed  by 
a  butcher;  as  did  the  same  beautiful  spouse  of  one  of 
your  prime  Nobility  Really,  Sir,  you  should  not  have 
meddled  with  this  subject.  Let  me  advise  you,  the 
next  time  you  take  up  the  employment  of  bespatter- 
ing the  people  of  the  United  States}  to  let  their  elec- 
tions, and  their  free  women,  alone. 

Permit  me  now  to  inform  you  in  what  manner  elec- 
tions are  conducted  in  New  England:  the  part  of  the 
United  States,  with  which  I  am  best  acquainted.  On 
the  morning  of  an  election  day  the  electors  assemble 
either  in  a  church,  or  a  town  house,  in  the  centre  of 
the  township,  of  which  they  are  inhabitants. 

The  business  of  the  day  is  sometimes  introduced  by 
a  sermon,  and  very  often  by  public  prayer.  A  Mod 
erator  is  chosen:  the  votes  are  given  in  with  strict  de- 
cency; without  a  single  debate;  without  noise,  or  dis- 
order, or  drink;  and  with  not  a  little  of  the  sobriety, 
seen  in  religious  assemblies.  The  meeting  is  then  dis- 
solved; the  inhabitants  retire  quietly  to  their  homes, 
and  have  neither  battles,  nor  disputes.  Pray,  Sir, 
have  you  any  such  elections,  as  these?  We  have  very 
many.  Probably,  all  are  not  such:  but  we  have  no 
Coventry  elections.  Nor  do  I  believe,  that  a  single 
woman,  bond  or  free,  ever  appeared  at  an  election 
in  New  England  since  the  colonization  of  the  country. 
It  would  be  as  much,  as  her  character  was  worth.  In- 
deed, Sir,  you  should  not  have  meddled  with  this 
subject. 

But,  lest  you  should  think  I  am  not  warranted  to 
rely  on  American  testimony  concerning  British  tran- 
sactions, I  will  present  you  with  a  few  passages  from 
6 


38  British  Elections. 

a  writer  of  your  own.  In  the  44th  Letter  of  Espriellfy 
you  will  find  the  following  observations. 

"Electioneering,  as  they  call  it,  is  a  game,  at  which 
every  kind  of  deceit  seems  to  be  lawful.  On  these 
occasions  men,  who  at  other  times  regard  it  as  a  duty 
to  speak  truth,  and  think  their  honour  implicated  in 
their  word,  scruple  not  at  asserting  the  grossest  and 
most  impudent  falsehoods,  if  thereby  they  can  obtain 
a  momentary  advantage  over  the  hostile  party.  A 
striking  instance  of  this  has  occurred  with  respect  to 
the  election  for  Nottingham,  a  considerable  town  in 
the  middle  of  England,  where  the  contest  has  been 
violent,  because  party  spirit  has  always  been  carried 
to  a  high  degree  there.  Some  years  ago  the  mob 
ducked  those  who  were  most  obnoxious  to  them,  and 
killed  some  of  them  in  the  operation.  This  was  not 
forgotten.  The  opposite  party  had  the  ascendancy 
now,  and  those  who  were  noted  as  having  been  active 
in  this  outrageous  cruelty  were  severely  handled.  In 
such  cases  of  summary  justice  the  innocent  are  liable 
to  suffer  with  the  guilty;  and  the  rabble,  when  they 
had  got  the  power,  abused  it.  Whoever  voted  for  the 
obnoxious  candidate,  had  the  skirts  of  his  coat  cut 
off,  and  it  was  well  if  he  escaped  without  further 
injury." 

After  reciting  the  false  story,  told  by  an  advocate 
of  the  unsuccessful  party,  Espriella  styles  it  "a  pious 
fraud  to  answer  a  party  purpose,7'  and  observes,  "  On 
such  occasions  no  frauds  pious  or  impious  are 
scrupled" 

Again,  "Any  thing  like  election  in  the  plain  sense 
of  the  word,  is  unknown  in  England.  Some  seats 
are  private  property;  that  is,  the  right  of  voting  belongs 
to  a  few  householders,  sometimes  not  more  than  half 


British  Elections.  39 

&  dozen;  and  of  course  these  voters  are  commanded 
by  the  owner  of  the  estate.  The  fewer  they  are,  the 
more  easily  they  are  managed.  Great  part  of  a  bor- 
ough in  the  west  of  England  was  consumed  some 
years  ago  by  fire,  and  the  lord  of  the  manor  would 
not  suffer  the  houses  to  be  rebuilt  for  this  reason.  It 
is  not  uncommon  to  see  a  seat  in  a  certain  house  ad» 
vertisedfor  in  the  public  newspapers.  In  this  man- 
ner are  a  majority  of  the  members  returned" 

"In  other  places,  where  the  number  of  voters  is 
something  greater,  so  as  to  be  too  many  for  this  kind 
of  quiet  and  absolute  controul,  the  business  is  more 
difficult,  and  sometimes  more  expensive.  The  candi* 
date  then,  instead  of  paying  a  settled  sum  to  the  lord 
of  the  borough,  must  deal  individually  with  the  con- 
stituents, 'who  sell  themselves  to  the  highest  bidder. 
Hemember  that  an  oath  against  bribery  is  required! 
A  common  mode  of  evading  the  letter  of  the  oath,  is 
to  lay  a  wager.  al  will  bet  so  much,"  says  the 
agent  of  the  candidate,  "that  you  do  not  vote  for  us." 
«Done,"  says  the  voter  freeman, — goes  to  the  hustings, 
gives  his  voice,  and  returns  to  receive  the  money;  not 
as  the  price  of  his  suffrage,  but  as  the  bet  'which  he 
has  won!!  It  is  said,  that  at  Aylesbury  a  punch  bowl 
full  of  guineas  stood  upon  the  table,  in  the  committee 
room,  and  th&  voters  were  helped  out  of  it.  The  price 
of  voters  varies  according  to  their  numbers.  In  some 
places  it  is  as  low  as  forty  shillings,  in  others,  at  liches- 
ier  for  instance,  it  is  thirty  pounds.  A  set  of  such 
constituents  once  waited  upon  the  member  whom  they 
had  chosen,  to  request  that  he  would  vote  against  the 
minister.  "D — m  you!"  was  his  answer.  "What! 
have  not  I  bought  you?  And  do  you  think  that  I  will 
not  sell  you?'7 


40  British  Elections. 

"A  great  proportion  of  the  infer! our  voters  are  neces- 
sarily under  the  absolute  controul  of  their  employers; 
but  there  are  always  many,  who  are  to  be  influenced 
by  weighty  arguments,  applied  to  the  pidm  of  the 
hand;  and  the  struggle  for  these,  when  the  parties 
happen  to  be  well  balanced,  leads  to  a  thousand 
devices.  The  moment  one  party  can  lay  hold  on  a 
voter  of  this  description,  they  endeavour  to  ke?p  him 
constantly  drunk  till  the  time  of  the  election,  and 
never  to  lose  sight  of  him." 

"The  qualification  for  voting  differs  at  different 
places.  At  Bristol  a  freeman's  daughter  conveys  it 
by  marriage.  Women  enter  into  the  heat  of  party 
even  more  eagerly  than  men,  and  when  the  mob  is 
more  than  usually  mischievous  are  sure  to  be  at  the 
head  of  it.  In  one  election  for  that  city,  which  was 
violently  disputed,  it  was  common  for  the  same  wo- 
man to  marry  several  mert.  The  mode  of  divorce 
was,  that  as  soon  as  the  ceremony  was  over,  and  the 
parties  came  out  of  church,  they  went  into  the  church 
yard,  and  shaking  hands  over  a  grave,  cried,  Now 
"death  us  do  part" — away  then  went  the  man  to 
vote,  with  his  new  qualification,  and  the  woman,  to 
qualify  another  husband  at  another  church. 

"The  house  of  Commons  has  not,  and  cannot  have, 
its  proportion  of  talents.  Its  members  aie  wholly 
chosen  from  among  persons  of  great  fortune.  It  is 
known  both  at  schools  and  at  universities,  that  the 
students  of  the  privileged  classes  are  generally  remiss 
in  their  studies,  and  inferior  in  information,  for  that 
reason,  to  their  contemporaries;  there  is  therefore  less 
chance  for  finding  a  due  proportion  of  knowledge 
*mong  them." 


British  Elections.  41 

"There  are  two  ways  in  which  men  of  talents,  who 
are  not  men  of  fortune,  find  their  way  into  parlia- 
ment. The  minister  sometimes  picks  out  a  few  prom- 
ising  plants  from  the  university,  and  forces  them  in  his 
hotbed.  They  are  chosen  so  young,  that  they  can- 
not by  any  possibility  have  acquired  information  to 
fit  them  for  their  situations;  they  are  so  flattered  by 
the  choice,  that  they  are  puffed  up  with  conceit,  and 
so  fettered  by  it,  that  they  must  be  at  the  beck  of  their 
patron.  The  other  method  is  byway  of  the  law.  But 
men,  who  make  their  way  up  by  legal  practice,  learn 
in  the  course  of  that  practice  to  disregard  right  and 
wrong,  and  to  consider  themselves  entirely  as  pleaders 
on  the  one  side.  They  continue  to  be  pleaders,  and 
partisans,  in  the  legislature;  and  never  become  states- 
men."* 

After  several  very  coarse,  and  false  assertions  con- 
cerning the  lawyers,  "who,"  you  say,  **piinci pally 
compose  the  House  of  Representatives/'  you  tell  us 
the  story  of  a  rencounter  between  Mr.  Griswold  and 

*  If  Mr.  Southey  is  the  author  of  the  Review  of  Inchiquirfs  Letters,  the 
passages,  here  quoted  from  Fspriella,  must  cover  his  face  with  crimson.  The*. 
Review  is  principally  a  comparison  of  British  respectability  with  American  base- 
ness and  degradation.  Yet  here  he  informs  us,  that  Englishmen  regard  all 
kinds  of  deceit  as  lawful  in  electioneering;  that  they  scruple  not  at  asserting 
the  grossest  and  most  impudent  falsehoods;  that  at  a  Nottingham  election  the 
mob  ducked  some,  and  killed  others;  that  on  such  occasions  no  frauds,  pious  or 
impious,  are  scrupled;  that  any  thing  like  an  election  in  the  plain  sense  of  tbe 
word  is  unknown  in  England;  that  a  Majority  of  the  Members  of  the  House  of 
Commons  are  returned  hy  the  most  corrupt  influence;  that  seats  in  that  House 
are  not  uncommonly  advertised  in  newspapers;  that,  although  oaths  are  required 
of  the  voters,  they  are  evaded  by  the  grossest  means;  that  votes  are  publicly 
bought  and  sold;  and  that  the  House  of  Commons  has  not,  and  cannot  have,  its 
proportion  of  talents. 

If  these  things  are  true;  where  is  the  country,  whose  elections  in  a  comparison 
with  those  of  England  will  not  become  white?  What  sober  man  must  not  suppose 
the  author  of  these  assertions  to  have  been  delirious,  when  attempting  such  a 
comparison? 


42  Matthew  Lyon. 

Matthew  Lyon.  This  rencounter  was  disgraceful  to 
our  country,  and  to  the  Congressional  House  of  Rep- 
resentatives. It  was  supremely  disgraceful  to  Lyon: 
but  it  was  not  disgraceful  to  Mr.  Griswold  This  I 
could  easily  prove  to  you,  with  all  your  prejudices 
against  the  United  States.  Mr.  Griswold  is  since 
dead.  Few  men  possess  superiour  talents;  and  none 
more  noble,  honourable,  or  delicate  sentiments,  prob- 
ably in  the  world:  and  no  man  is  more  respectfully 
remembered  by  all,  who  knew  him.  The  story,  told 
with  truth  and  justice,  would  be  too  long  to  be  insert- 
ed here:  it  may  perhaps  be  told  hereafter.  As  it  is 
exhibited  in  Askt's  travels,  it  is  almost  merely  a  col- 
lection of  falsehoods. 

Lyon  was  an  Irishman.  It  is  not  strange  that  an 
ill-bred  man,  who  comes  to  this  country,  should  bring 
with  him  his  ill  breeding.  That  this  man  was  found 
in  the  list  of  National  Representatives  was  owing  to 
the  same  party  spirit,  which  put  Sir  Francis  Burdett 
into  your  House  of  Commons,  a  man  in  every  respect 
more  unfit  for  the  place  than  Matthew  Lyon  In- 
deed, you  do  not  very  often  send  us  men,  so  respecta- 
ble, as  Matthew  Lyon;  gross  and  brutal  as  was  this 
outrage  upon  decency. 

You  next  attack  us  on  the  score  oj  Duels.  One 
would  think  this  subject  ought  not  to  have  been  men- 
tioned by  a  man,  who  himself  had  so  lately  fought  a 
duel  with  Lord  Castlereagh,  and  had  thus  assumed, 
to  the  eye  of  God  and  of  his  own  conscience,  (if  his 
conscience  has  an  eye  left,)  the  character,  and  the 
guilt,  of  a  wilful  murderer.  You  ought,  Sir,  to  have 
remembered,  that  Mr.  Pitt  had  very  lately  fought  a 
duel  with  Mr.  Tierney;  that  Mr.  Fox,  the  other  great 
man  of  your  nation,  fought  a  duel  with  Mr.  Adam; 


English  Duels,  43 

and  that  the  Diike  of  York  fought  another  with  Col. 
Lenox  When  duels  are  fought  by  the  most  splendid 
Orators  and  Statesmen,  of  Great  Britain;  nay,  at  the 
side  of  your  throne;  and  when  those,  who  were  par- 
ties in  them,  arc  elevated  to  the  stations  of  Embassa- 
dors  and  prime  Ministers;  is  it  strange  that  the  exam- 
ple should  be  contagious?  Is  it  not  strange,  that  in  the 
midst  of  these  scenes  of  assassination,  and  infamy,  a 
man  should  be  found  looking  on,  and  himself  a  pri- 
mary Actor,  who  should  yet  turn  his  eye  coolly  off,  to 
mark  the  stains  of  others.  Look,  Sir,  at  the  rencoun- 
ter between  Col.  Montgomery  and  Capt.  Mac  Nama- 
ra:  each  of  whom  hazarded,  and  one  of  whom  lost, 
his  life,  to  finish  a  quarrel  between  two  dogs.  Look 
back,  Sir,  to  the  duel,  fought  by  Mr.  Anderson  and 
Mr.  Stephens,  because  the  one  insisted,  that  a  window 
sash  should  be  shoved  up,  and  the  other,  that  it  should 
be  pulled  down.  Look  at  the  duel  between  Lord 
Camelford  and  Mr.  Best,  which  issued  in  the  death  of 
the  former,  and  which  was  produced  by  the  intrigues 
of  a  prostitute,  who  had  lived  as  the  mistress  of  them 
both.  I  acknowledge  all  the  guilt,  and  all  the  shame, 
which  can  attach  to  my  countrymen  from  duels. 
Load  them  with  as  many  imputations,  as  you  please; 
and  I  will  subjoin,  Amen.  At  the  same  time,  Sir, 
forget  not  those  of  yourself,  your  statesmen,  and  your 
princes:  and  let  the  brand  be  burnt  equally  deep  on 
your  own  forehead,  theirs,  and  ours.  Until  this  is 
done,  I  think  the  pot  ought  to  treat  the  kettle  with 
rather  more  civility. 

In  New  England,  before  the  year  18 12,  there  were 
eight  duels  fought:  one  by  two  servants  of  the  Plym- 
outh Company,  within  the  first  year  after  they  landed; 
one  by  two  West  Indian  youths?  who  were  at  school 


44  American  Courts  of  Justice. 

in  Stratford,  in  Connecticut;  one  by  two  officers  of 
the  American  army  in  the  State  of  Rhode  Island: 
three  by  young  men  of  Boston  and  the  vicinity;  one 
by  an  officer  of  the  navy  and  a  young  man  of  Boston; 
and  one  by  two  citizens  of  New  York,  who  crossed 
the  line  into  Connecticut,  in  order  to  avoid  the  sen- 
tence of  law  in  their  own  State.  Thus  in  192  years 
there  have  been  but  five  duels  fought  in  New  England 
by  its  own  inhabitants.  Since  the  year  1812,  it  has 
been  said,  (whether  truly  or  not  I  am  ignorant,)  that 
one  or  more  duels  were  fought  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
New  London,  by  some  of  the  officers,  or  the  Midship- 
men, of  the  frigates  blocked  up  in  the  Thames,  These, 
also,  were  strangers.  Will  Great  Britain  furnish  you 
with  an  opportunity  of  telling  the  same  story  concern- 
ing any  part  of  her  territory? 

You  next  attack  our  Courts  oj  Justice;  and  assert, 
that  our  judges  are  not  independent  of  the  Executive 
power.  The  assertion  is  partially  just.  In  Connec- 
ticut, Rhode  Island,  and  Vermont,  and,  I  believe,  in 
one  or  two  of  the  Western  States,  the  judges  are  de- 
pendent, not  on  the  Executive,  but  the  Legislature. 
So  far  as  this  defect  extends,  it  is  a  very  serious  one; 
and  is  lamented  by  all  the  wise  and  good  men  of  this 
country.  In  Connecticut,  however,  the  injury,  nat- 
urally derived  from  this  source,  has  not  been  felt. 

The  judges  have  been  invariably  elected  until  their 
death,  or  resignation,  except  in  one  or  two  cases  of 
supposed,  or  real,  misbehaviour;  not.  indeed,  in  their 
official  character,  but  in  some  transactions  aside  from 
their  professional  business. 

In  ail  the  other  States,  the  judges  are  independent; 
holding  their  offices  during  good  behaviour,  and  being 
secured  in  tneir  salaries  while  they  continue  m  office. 
The  salaries,  also,  are  generally  ample. 


American  Courts  of  Justice.  45 

The  judges  of  the  United  States,  (those,  to  whom 
you  evidently  refer,)  are  appointed  by  the  President 
and  Senate,  as  you  suppose;  but  their  office  is  holden 
during  good  behaviour;  and  they  cannot  be  removed 
from  it,  except  by  an  impeachment,  of  which  the 
House  of  Representatives  are  the  authors,  and  a  subse- 
quent condemnation  by  the  Senate.  Their  "Salaries" 
also,  "are  adequate,  and  permanent,  as  contended  for 
by  Mr.  Hamilton"  They  are,  therefore,  not  "the 
creatures  of  the  President  and  Senate."  Your  infor- 
mation concerning  this  subject  has  been  erroneous,  and 
your  eloquence,  lost. 

Generally,  our  Courts  are  both  learned  and  upright. 
Some  of  thorn,  I  have  no  doubt,  are  defective  in  both 
particulars:  and  a  very  few  of  them,  I  believe  to  have 
been  scandalously  so.  In  the  great  body  of  them  the 
Community  confides  without  suspicion,  as  well  as 
without  complaint. 

Permit  me  to  remind  you,  that  your  tribunals  have 
jiot  always  been  unstained.  Look  if  you  please  at  the 
trial  of  the  seven  Bishops;  at  the  tribunal  of  the  Star 
chamber;  at  the  history  of  Jeffries.  We  shall  not 
blush  at  the  comparison.  How  long,  Sir,  did  your 
nation  struggle  before  its  Judges  were  made  indepen- 
dent? Porcupine  had  the  same  reason  to  complain  of 
our  Courts,  as  of  yours.  One  of  our  Courts  fined  him 
5,000  dollars  for  a  libel  on  Dr.  Rush;  yours,  beside 
fining,  imprisoned  him  for  libelling  your  Governmei  w. 

That  our  Courts  have  at  times  done  injustice,  and 
that  our  legislatures  have  at  times  been  oppressive  in 
their  laws,  is  certain.  The  treatment  of  the  Quakers 
at  Boston,  and  of  the  Witches  at  Danvers,  cannot  be 
vindicated:  but  if  you  will  look  back  to  the  reigns  of 
Charles  il,  and  James  H,  you  will  find  more  acts  of 
7 


46  The  Conventicle  Ad. 

injustice  done  within  a  little  period,  than  would  be 
done  by  our  Courts  and  Legislatures  in  a  thousand 
years,  if  they  were  to  sustain  the  same  character, 
which  they  have  sustained  hitherto,  and  were  to  pur- 
sue similar  conduct.  You  ejected,  imprisoned,  reduced 
to  beggary,  and  banished,  within  a  small  part  of  this 
little  period,  more  than  two  thousand  nonconformist 
Ministers;  many  of  them  among  the  first  ornaments 
of  your  nation;  and  that,  after  his  Majesty  had  thus 
solemnly  said,  "We  do  declare  a  liberty  to  tender  con- 
sciences, and  that  no  man  shall  be  disquieted,  or  called 
in  question,  for  differences  of  opinion,  which  do  not 
disturb  the  peace  of  the  kingdom." 

What  think  you,  Sir,  of  the  conventicle  Act?  which 
enacted — that  every  person  above  sixteen  years  of 
age,  present  at  any  meeting  under  pretence  of  any  ex- 
ercise of  religion  in  other  manner  than  is  the  practice 
of  the  church  of  England,  where  there  are  five  persons 
more  than  the  household,  shall  for  the  first  offence 
by  a  Justice  of  the  peace  be  recorded,  and  sent  to  gaol 
three  months,  till  he  pay  five  pounds;  and,  for  the 
second  offence  six  months,  till  he  pay  ten  pounds;  and 
the  third  time,  being  convicted  by  a  jury,  shall  be  ban- 
ished to  some  of  the  American  plantations,  excepting 
New  England,  or  Virginia"  The  very  people,  Sir, 
who  were  banished  by  this  Act,  and  by  the  preceding 
and  succeeding  furious  measures  of  your  Government, 
came  to  New  England,  and  planted  it  at  an  immense 
expense  of  toil,  treasure,  and  blood.  At  all  times  they 
allowed  the  most  absolute  toleration  to  the  Episcopa- 
lians, the  authors  of  all  their  sufferings;  and,  after  they 
became  independent,  placed  the  Episcopalians,  and  all 
other  classes  of  religious  on  the  same  foundation  of 
absolute  ecclesiastical  liberty  with  themselves.  Were 


Miranda  and  Copenhagen.  47 

such  a  tale,  as  this,  to  be  found  in  your  history;  it 
would  be  boasted  of  by  every  Briton  as  the  glory  of 
his  country;  as  you  now  boast  of  the  toleration,  actu- 
ally exercised  by  your  Government.  To  tolerate,  is? 
perhaps,  all  that  you  can  do:  happily,  we  can  do  more. 

"The  justices  of  the  peace/'  you  say,  "are  not,  as 
with  us,  respectable  country  gentlemen.  No  such 
character,  in  fact,  is  known  in  America."  We  have 
no  entailed  estates  in  America;  and  no  eldest  sons,  re- 
siding upon  them,  who  inherit  by  law  the  whole  land- 
ed property  of  their  fathers:  but  we  have  many  gen- 
tlemen residing  in  our  country  towns,  who  are  mag- 
istrates: men,  as  much  superiour  to  your  numerous 
list  of  fox  hunters,  who  in  your  language  are  country 
gentlemen,  and  form  a  large  part  of  your  justices  of 
the  peaoe,  as  these  country  gentlemen  are  to  scaven- 
gers; superiour  in  intelligence,  in  knowledge  of  law,  in 
morals,  and  in  manners.  Your  country  gentlemen 
have  been  so  often  described;  and  so  many  Americans 
have  seen  them  in  England;  that  we  are  not  ignorant 
of  their  character,  even  on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic. 
As  to  the  scheme  of  obtaining  this  office,  subjoined  to 
the  above  quoted  declaration;  it  has  no  existence,  but 
in  your  own  imagination. 

You  mention  with  severity  Mr.  Jefferson's  inter- 
ference in  the  business  of  Miranda.  With  my 
consent  you  may  say  what  you  please  concerning 
Mr.  Jefferson;  and,  when  you  have  done,  you  may, 
also,  set  down  by  the  side  of  Miranda,  the  expedition 
to  Copenhagen;  and  ask  a  discreet  Dane,  which  of 
them  was  the  most  dishonourable  to  human  nature. 

You  observe  in  the  following  page,  that  "for  any  of 
these  callings,  (Law,  Physic,  Surgery,  and  Divinity,} 
jio  preparatory  course  of  study,  no  testimonial  of  com- 


48  Medical  Institutions. 

petency,  no  kind  of  examination,  no  particular  qualifi- 
cations, no  diploma  of  license,  are  required."  You 
should  not  have  made  these  assertions,  Sir,  in  this 
round  manner,  without  better  foundation. 

In  most,  and,  I  believe,  in  all  the  States,  Lawyers 
are  obliged  to  study,  in  some  two,  and  in  others  three 
years,  before  they  can  be  admitted  to  practice.  They 
then  undergo  an  examination.  This  I  know  to  be 
strict  in  some  States:  and  believe  it  to  be  so  in  others. 
There  are  two  regular  law  schools  in  this  country;  and 
the  instruction,  given  in  them,  is  given  with  a  degree 
of  ability,  and  skill,  which  would  not  discredit  Eng- 
land itself. 

There  are  at  least  eight  Medical  Institutions,  and  if 
I  mistake  not,  nine,  in  the  Union;  in  which  almost  all 
the  physicians  are  educated.  The  lectures,  read  in 
them,  are  given  by  learned  and  able  men.  I  presume 
that  they  are  inferiour  to  the  similar  Institutions  of 
London  and  Edinbur  £  I  Still  they  are  useful,  and 
honourable,  to  the  country;  as  honourable,  the  date 
of  our  colonization  being  considered,  as  those  of  Great 
Britain  are  to  her.  No  physician,  so  far  as  my  in- 
formation extends,  is  empowered  by  law,  except  in 
two  or  three  of  the  States,  to  collect  his  debts  for  Med- 
ical practice,  unless  he  has  been  educated  in  one  of 
these  Institutions. 

Concerning  the  education  of  persons,  destined  for 
the  Ministry,  I  shall  make  some  observations  hereafter. 

We  will  now,  Sir,  see  the  estimation,  in  which  some 
of  the  lawyers  of  your  own  country  are  held,  at  least 
by  one  of  your  Nobility.  In  the  house  of  Lords, 
June  17,  1794,  Lord  Abingdon  said,  "The  reform  I 
allude  to  is  that  of  those  locusts  in  the  law,  the  petti- 
fogging attornies  of  this  country;  who,  like  the  locusts 


English  Lawyers.  49 

in  Africa,  fall  like  a  cloud  upon  the  earth,  and  eat  up 
every  thing  they  meet  with.*'  Again,  "I,  as  a  member 
of  this  House,  am  led  to  invoke  the  aid,  and  to  excite 
the  endeavours,  of  your  Lordships  in  assisting  me  to 
stop  the  progress  of  this  growing  evil;  the  evil  of  all 
others,  perhaps  the  very  only  one  in  the  State,  most 
assuredly  the  most  crying  evil  in  the  State,  that  calls 
for  and  requires  reform."  Again,  "The  greater,  the 
higher,  the  richer,  you  are,  the  more  prone  are  you  to 
its  consequences,  and  the  surer  of  becoming  sooner  or 
later  the  victims  of  its  all  devouring  avarice."  Once 
more,  ^Hic  niger  est,  my  Lords;  but  black  as  this  qui 
tarn  gentleman  is,  and  still  blacker  could  I  make  him, 
he  is  not  half  so  black  as  those  rotten  limbs  of  the 
law,  who  have  aided  and  assisted  him  in  this  political 
conspiracy,  conducted  by  pettifogging  artifice." 

Had  my  Lord  Abingdon  lived  in  this  country,  I 
am  persuaded  he  would  never  have  made,  nor  ever 
have  found  any  reason  to  make,  such  lamentations  as 
these.  Lawyers  in  this  country,  whatever  information 
you  may  have  received  concerning  them,  are  an  hon- 
ourable, and  liberal-minded,  class  of  men;  and  are 
considered  by  their  countrymen  as  sustaining  a  very 
fair  and  unimpeachable  character.  Among  them 
there  are  undoubtedly  rogues;  resembling  those  com- 
plained of  by  Lord  Abingdon:  generally  they  possess 
a  fair  reputation. 

You  tell  us  a  story  concerning  "a  set  of  fellows,  who 
got  into  Parkinson's  garden,  and  began  to  pluck  the 
fruit."  This  Parkinson,  Sir,  has  told  the  world,  pro- 
fessedly from  Mr.  Jefferson,  that  an  acre  oj  wheat  in 
Virginia,  yields  only  two  bushels  and  a  half.  Did 
you  believe  this  story?  If  you  did;  you  supposed  that 
a  Virginian  farmer  ploughed  an  acre  of  land*  and 


50  Petty  Thefts. 

then  sowed  a  bushel  and  a  half  of  wheat,  in  order  to 
gain  another  bushel.  How  long  did  you  imagine, 
that  this  profitable  agriculture  could  go  on?  You 
knew  that  this  story  was  a  lie;  and  that  the  man,  who 
told  a  lie,  in  a  case  so  palpable,  would  lie  in  every 
other  case,  where  he  found  any  inducement  Why 
did  you  quote  from  such  an  authority? 

That  there  are  people  in  Baltimore,  and  in  other 
places,  who  would  take  fruit  unlawfully,  I  have  not  a 
doubt.  In  a  country,  where  fruit  abounds  as  it  does 
in  this,  and  where  it  is  often  given  away  in  large  quan- 
tities; and,  when  it  is  not,  is  often,  in  large  quantities 
also,  made  the  food  of  swine;  it  is  no  unnatural  thing 
for  persons  in  humble  life,  unpossessed  of  nice  moral 
feelings,  or  distinct  apprehensions  of  what  Morality 
demands,  to  suppose,  that  they  may  take  fruit,  to  some 
extent,  without  any  great  offence.  In  England,  where 
fruit  is  comparatively  scarce,  and  both  the  law  and  the 
landholder  hedge  it  about  with  great  care,  it  may  well 
be  supposed,  that  such  license  would  be  less  frequently 
permitted.  At  the  same  time,  you  hang  a  man  for 
stealing  thirteen  pence  halfpenny.  We  value  life  at  a 
higher  price;  although  your  laws  have  determined,  that 
the  life  of  an  Englishman  is  worth  only  this  sum. 

Still,  thefts  are  far  less  common  here  than  they  are 
with  you.  The  business  of  your  Magistrates  in  pre- 
venting and  punishing,  what  you  call  poaching,  is  more 
extensive  than  that  of  the  whole  criminal  police  of 
this  country;  and,  unhappily,  is  the  business  of  a  part 
of  your  Clergymen,  as  well  as  of  Lay  magistrates. 

In  speaking  concerning  the  separation  of  Church 
and  State,  you  say,  "It  is  almost  needless  to  add,  that 
this  divorce  has  been  productive  of  a  pretty  numerous 


Fanaticism  in  England.  51 

alop  of  illegitimate*  sects;  all  equally  thriving  under 
the  salutary  and  fostering  neglect  of  the  parent  State. 
To  recount  them  would  be  endless.  Presbyterians 
baptists,  methodists,  universalists,  episcopalians*  and 
congregationalists,  quakers  and  moravians,  dunkers 
and  shakers;  with  a  multitude  of  others,  whose  names 
it  would  be  as  unprofitable  to  enumerate,  as  it  would 
be  difficult  to  assign  their  characteristic  differences  of 
doctrine  or  disbelief;  exhibit  all  together  as  satisfac- 
tory a  view  as  can  be  desired,  of  the  fanatical  extrav- 
agancies, to  which  the  bulk  of  mankind  would  be 
driven  by  the  raptures  of  visionaries,  or  the  arts  of  im- 
postors, or  by  the  mere  necessity,  and  craving,  of  the 
human  mind  for  some  intercourse  with  its  Creator — 
in  the  absence  of  a  national  church  and  an  establish- 
ed worship." 

Now,  Sir,  if  you  will  please  to  look  at  the  29th  of 
Espriella's  letters,  you  will  find  all  these  sects,  declar- 
ed by  one  of  your  own  countrymen  to  exist  at  the 
present  time  in  England,  and  sixteen  more;  sixteen,  I 
mean,  beside  those,  which,  to  make  out  his  list  of 
forty-three  specified,  and  the  indefinite  number,  in- 
cluded under  his  et  ceteras,  he  has  blended  together 
with  intentional  inaccuracy.  Yet  in  Great  Britain 
the  Church  is  not  divorced  from  the  State.  Pray,  Sir, 
whence  came  this  numerous  train  of  sectarians  in  your 
own  country?  Is  it  true,  that  the  union  of  the  Church 
with  the  State,  and  the  separation  of  the  Church  from 
the  State,  produce  exactly  the  same  effects?  This  has 
not  usually  been  the  operation  of  opposite  causes. 

To  us,  Sir,  all  these  sects  came  from  Great  Britain, 
They  are  your  own  offspring.  From  you  came  to 

*  Are  Episcopalians  an  illegitimate  Sect"1 


52  Camp-meetings  and  Methodism. 

this  country  Presbyterians,  Baptists,  Methodists,  Unl- 
versalists,  Episcopalians,  and  Congregationalists,  Qua- 
kers, and  Moravians,  Bunkers,  and  Shakers,  "together 
with  a  multitude  of  others,  whose  names  it  would  be 
unprofitable  to  enumerate." 

The  Camp-meetings,  of  which  you  make  such  elo- 
quent mention,  are  derived  from  Great  Britain.  The 
very  Bishops  of  Methodism,  whom  you  sent  over  to 
this  country,  the  travelling  ministers,  who  came  from 
England,  have  given  birth  to  these  shameful  extrava- 
gancies: and  these  extravagancies,  notwithstanding 
their  public,  solemn  declarations  to  the  contrary,  are, 
with  the  highest  probability,  secretly  cherished  and 
supported  by  the  leading  Methodists  in  Great  Britain. 
Here,  by  the  great  body  of  sober  men,  they  are  held 
in  contempt  and  abhorrence.  But  they  have  been 
means  of  indulging  the  spirit  of  propagandism;  and 
have  actually  contributed  to  swell  the  muster-roll  of 
Methodism,  by  adding  to  it,  annually,  a  considerable 
number  of  miserable  wretches,  easily  made  victims 
through  their  profound  ignorance,  the  dictates  of  a 
vivid  imagination,  and  ardent  feelings,  to  the  vocife- 
ration, and  anathemas,  of  their  itinerant  exhorters.  1 
doubt  not,  that  the  sober  and  virtuous  men  of  this 
class,  (for  such,  it  is  fairly  presumed,  there  are,)  really 
disapprove  of  these  excesses;  and  are  reluctantly  in- 
duced to  wink  at  them,  from  the  mere  spirit  of  propa- 
gandism: a  spirit,  which,  when  once  imbibed,  is  too 
powerful  to  be  resisted  by  any  ordinary  human 
virtue. 

The  real  effect  of  what  you  are  pleased  to  call  the 
divorce  of  Church  and  State  in  this  country,  is  to 
make  all  men  feel,  that  they  possess  the  same  religiou?^ 
:  to  induce  them  from  this  consideration  to  feel 


Jvanna  Southcot. 

the  same  interest  in  the  prosperity  of  the  government 
which  equally  protects  them  all;  and  to  live  quietly 
and  pleasantly  by  the  side  of  each  other. 

Please  now.  Sir,  to  turn  for  a  moment  to  the  letters 
of  Espriella;  and  cast  your  eye  over  the  story  of 
John  Wright  and  William  Bryan,  and  their  visit  to 
the  prophets  of  Avignon.  Thence  proceed  through 
the  story  of  Richard  Brothers,  and  of  Mr.  Halhed,  a 
member  of  your  Parliament,  and  a  man  of  no  despi- 
cable talents,  a  convert  to  the  phrenzy  of  Brothers. 
Thence  proceed  to  the  next  chapter;  in  which  you 
will  .find  the  story  of  Joanna  Southcot:  and  then  say 
whether  you  believe,  that  any  country,  even  the 
United  States,  ever  produced  specimens  of  religious 
delirium,  equal  to  these.  Remember,  that  among  her 
early  believers  were  three  clergymen;  one  of  them  a 
man  of  fashion,  fortune,  and  noble  family:  not  dis- 
senting Ministers;  not  Presbyterian  Clergymen:  but 
Clergymen  of  your  own  Church.  Did  you  recollect, 
Sir,  when  the  Review,  which  is  the  subject  of  these 
strictures,  was  written,  and  particularly  the  paragraphs 
immediately  under  consideration,  that  Joanna  South- 
cot  was  an  English  wroman,  that  her  rude,  vulgar 
rhapsodies;  "the  vilest  string  of  words,  in  the  vilest 
doggerel  verse;  which  has  no  other  connection  than 
what  the  vilest  rhymes  have  suggested;"  were  believed 
by  several  thousand  persons,  besides  these  Clergymen; 
that  She  was  believed  to  be  commissioned  "to  destroy 
the  devil,"  and  "was  ordered  to  set  down  all  his  blas- 
phemies, and  show  to  the  world  what  the  language  of 
hell  is;"  that  she  announced  herself  to  be  the  female 
Redeemer  of  mankind;  a  bone  from  Christ,  the 
second  Adam;  the  Bride  of  the  Apocalypse;  the 
promised  Seed,  who  is  to  bruise  the  serpent's  head; 
8 


54  Education  for  the  Ministry. 

that  she  disputed  with  the  devil,  and  wrote  down  the 
conversation;  and  that  she  seals  those,  who  in  the 
Apocalypse  are  styled  the  hundred  and  forty  four 
thousand  servants  of  God.  If  you  did  recollect  these 
facts,  could  you  fail  of  subscribing  the  following  de- 
claration of  Espriella?  "We  must  acknowledge,  that 
there  never  was  any  age,  or  any  country,  so  favoura- 
ble to  the  success  of  imposture,  or  the  growth  of  su- 
perstition, as  this  very  age,  and  this  very  England." 

I  promised  to  take  some  notice  of  the  Education, 
in  this  country,  of  persons,  intended  for  the  Ministry 
of  the  Gospel.  You  say,  that  "the  office  of  Judge  in 
the  supreme  and  district  courts,  is  conferred  upon  per- 
sons, who  have  not  gone  through  any  previous  dis- 
dipline,  or  practice,  to  qualify  them  for  discharging  it; 
and  that  the  same  holds  good  writh  regard  to  those, 
who  are  destined  to  be  lawyers,  physicians,  surgeons, 
and  teachers  of  the  divine  word.  For  all  or  any  of 
these  callings,""  you  say,  "no  preparatory  course  of 
study,  no  testimonial  of  competency,  no  kind  of  exam- 
ination, no  particular  qualifications,  no  diploma,  or 
license,  are  required" 

The  justice  of  these  declarations  I  will  now  exam- 
ine. All  the  students  in  our  colleges,  unless  some  of 
the  new  ones  are  excepted,  and  some,  I  know  not 
how  many,  in  the  Southern  States,  are  taught  Theol- 
ogy in  form  as  a  science.  In  addition  to  this,  every 
individual,  admitted  to  a  license  in  the  Congregational 
and  Presbyterian  Churches,  and,  I  presume,  in  the 
Episcopalian  also,  studies  Theology  professionally; 
either  with  a  Professor  of  Divinity,  or  with  some  Cler- 
gyman of  reputation.  At  the  termination  of  these 
studies,  the  candidate  for  a  license,  in  the  two  former 
Churches,  is  regularly  examined,  before  he  can  receive 


Theological  Institutions.  55 

it,  by  an  Association  of  Ministers,  or  a  Presbytery, 
until  the  examiners  are  satisfied  of  his  competency, 
and,  let  me  add,  of  his  piety  also.  This  has  been  the 
state  of  things  with  respect  to  this  subject  from  the 
first  colonization  of  New  England.  When  he  be- 
comes a  candidate  for  ordination,  he  is  examined 
again,  in  both  respects,  in  the  same  manner;  and  usu- 
ally by  another  Presbytery,  or  Association.  There  is, 
however,  one  exception.  A  body  of  divines,  how 
numerous  I  am  ignorant,  but  small  in  proportion  to 
that,  whose  conduct  has  been  here  described,  does  not, 
as  I  am  informed,  usually  insist  on  such  examinations. 
These  are  chiefly  found  on  the  eastern  shores  of  New 
England.  But  these,  and  all  others,  require  the  study, 
and  ample  testimonials  of  the  competency  and  gene- 
ral character  of  the  candidate:  and  a  diploma  is  almost 
absolutely  indispensable. 

Thus,  Sir,  this  business  was  established  from  the  be- 
ginning. In  modern  times  four  Theological  Semina- 
ries have  been  founded  in  this  country:  one  at  Ando- 
<vtr  in  Massachusetts,  by  Congregationalists;  one  in 
New  York,  by  the  Associate  Scotch  Reformed;  one 
at  New  Brunswick  in  New  Jersey,  by  the  Dutch 
Church;  and  one  at  Princeton,  in  New  Jersey  also,  by 
the  Presbyterian  Church.  At  Andover,  students  are 
never  admitted,  except  in  extraordinary  cases,  unless 
they  have  been  liberally  educated;  nor  without  certi- 
ficates of  an  irreproachable  character;  nor  without  a 
formal  examination. 

After  admission  they  are  placed  under  the  tuition 
of  three  Professors;  of  Theology,  of  Sacred  Litera- 
ture, and  of  Sacred  Rhetoric.  Their  term  of  study  is 
three  years.  In  each  of  these  years  they  are  public- 
ly, and  critically  examined.  Then,  in  order  to  obtain 


56      Education  for  the  Ministry  in  England. 

a  license,  and  afterwards,  to  be  admitted  to  ordina- 
tion, they  must  in  each  case  pass  through  the  Asso- 
ciational,  or  Presbyterial  examination,  mentioned 
above.  What  is  true  of  the  Seminary  at  Andover,  is 
believed  to  be  true,  substantially,  of  all  the  other  Insti- 
tutions of  this  nature. 

I  ought  to  add,  that  the  foundation  of  a  Theologi- 
cal Seminary  is  begun  in  the  city  of  New  York,  for 
the  professional  education  of  young  men  destined  to 
the  Ministry  in  the  Episcopal  Church. 

Now  let  me  request  you  to  look  back  to  the  para- 
graph, which  has  occasioned  these  remarks;  and  to 
ask,  What  am  I,  and  what  is  the  World,  to  think  of 
the  assertions,  which  you  have  made;  assertions,  with- 
out any  foundation  in  truth,  and  without  any  appear- 
ance of  decency.  I  think  you  yourself  cannot  but 
admit,  that  they  are  rash  and  unhappy.  Of  the  same 
nature  are  very  many  of  the  other  declarations,  which 
are  contained  in  the  review  of  Inchiquiri's  Letters. 

We  will  now,  if  you  please,  turn  our  attention  to 
the  manner,  in  which  young  men  are  educated /or  the 
Evangelical  Ministry  in  England,  and  in  your  own 
Church. 

In  the  Christian  Observer  for  November  1811,  is  a 
Review  of  "The  state  of  the  Established  Church,  in  a 
Series  of  Letters  to  the  Right  Hon.  Spencer  Perceval, 
Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer,"  &c.  As  I  have  not 
the  Letters,  I  shall  take  my  quotations  and  references 
out  of  the  Review,  and  such  parts  of  the  Letters  as  are 
transcribed. 

On  the  state  of  your  Universities,  the  author  makes 
the  following  statements.  <>I  believe,  Sir,  you  cannot 
be  ignorant  of  the  manner,  in  which  those  systems 
are  carried  into  effect,  or  rather  are  neglected;  that 


Education  for  the  Ministry  in  England.      57 

iht  example  of  too  many  among  the  preceptors,  and 
the  looseness  of  conduct  suffered  among  the  students, 
prove  how  widely  our  colleges  have  departed  from 
the  intentions  of  the  founders;  so  that,  instead  &f  re« 
ligion,  they  too  often  confer  habits,  and  opinions,  de- 
structive to  the  individuals,  and  baneful  to  those, 
whose  eternal  happiness  is  hereafter  to  be  entrusted  to 
persons,  so  little  qualified,  or  accustomed,  to  appre- 
ciate their  own."  p.  1. 

Again.  "There  are  more  vice  and  profligacy  coun- 
tenanced at  our  universities,  where  a  direct  and  obvi- 
ous check  exists,  than  would  be  suffered  to  take  place 
among  its  members  afterwards,  when  they  arrive  al 
situations  in  life,  which  present  no  positive  restraints; 
and  the  scenes  of  riot  and  debauchery,  which  pass  un- 
noticed (or  at  least  are  ineffectually  noticed)  by  those, 
who  cannot  be  ignorant  of  them,  would,  in  this  me- 
tropolis, subject  the  perpetrators  to  the  correction  of 
the  police:7  p.  20. 

The  Christian  Observer  proceeds,  "Religion  the  au- 
thor conceives  to  be  equally  neglected."  "Christianity 
forms  little  or  no  part  in  the  regular  plan  of  instruc- 
tion. Contrary  to  our  experience  in  every  other  pro- 
fession, candidates  for  our  Ministry  are  taught  every 
branch  of  science,  but  that  in  which  they  are  to  prac- 
tice. Chapel  is  not  attended  till  it  is  half  over.  Ma- 
ny go  there  intoxicated  as  to  a  kind  of  roll  call:  and 
though  the  assumption  of  the  Lord's  supper  is  per- 
emptory upon  the  students,  no  care  is  taken  to  teach 
them  its  importance"  &c.  p.  22. 

Letter  III  opens  with  similar  statements  in  respect 
to  examination  for  orders.  "Our  future  clergyman, 
having  taken  his  degree,  (to  which  the  principles  of 
religion  form  at  Cambridge  no  step  whatever,  and  at 


58        Candidates  for  Orders  in  the  Church. 

Oxford  a  very  trifling  one,)  and  having,  often  by  Eu- 
clid alone,  attained  that  object,  announces  himself  a 
candidate  for  holy  orders."    Then  "so  very  lax  has 
become  the  examination  for  orders,  that  there  is  no 
man,  who  has  taken  a  degree  at  the  university,  who 
cannot  reckon  on  ordination  as  a  certainty,  whatever 
his   attainments    in    learning,  morals,  or  religion, 
&c." — "Speaking  generally,  I  believe  the  only  qualifi- 
cations are  to  construe  a  chapter  in  the  Greek  Testa* 
ment,  and  answer  a  few  questions  out  of  Grotius."    A 
specimen  of  these  answers  is  then  given  in  the  answer 
of  a  young  man  to  the  question,  Who  was  the  Medi- 
ator between  God  and  man?     Answer.     "  The  Arch- 
bishop of  Canterbury."  pp.  24 — 26.     Speaking  of  the 
difficulties,  he  would,  on  the  contrary,  oppose  to  the 
attainment  of  orders,  he  says,  "I  shall,  perhaps,  be  an- 
swered, "How  hard  to  throw  a  young  man  back  upon 
the  world!  that  school  learning  is  not  of  so  much  con- 
sequence, as  the  moral  character  of  a  minister,  &c."  " 
To  which  he  replies  1st.  by  hoping,  that,  if  a  change 
in    the    mode  of   examination  were    once   known, 
candidates  would  come  as  well  prepared  for  the  lat- 
ter,   as  now  unprepared   for  the  former;   and  that, 
2dly,  it  is  actually  "the  want  of  attention  to  moral 
character,  which  is  at  present  most  to  be  deplored,  and 
which  he  could  wish  to  see  commence  even  before  the 
time  of  ordination,  &c."    This  cursory  wish,  with  a 
single  page  in  Letter  X,  is  the  whole  of  the  remedy, 
our  writer  has  to  propose  for  the  cure  of  such  nume- 
rous, inveterate,  and  complicated  disorders.   "The  first 
step  to  a  reform  in  the  church  establishment,"  he  tells 
us,  "should  be  an  entire  and  total  revision  of  the  sys- 
tem of  our  universities.     A  knowledge  and  rigid  prac- 
tice of  the  duties  of  religion  should  be  rendered  indis- 


Examination  for  Holy  Orders*  59 

pensable.  Vice  should  be  not  only  checked,  but  made, 
after  a  certain  limit  a  positive  obstacle  to  wdination. 
A  preparation,  and  examination  for  orders  should  be 
a  part  of  the  collegiate  system,  not  left  to  Bishops,  or 
their  chaplains;  decent  attendance  on  the  church  ser- 
vice prescribed;  and  young  men,  intended  for  the 
church,  should  declare  such  intention  on  their  admis- 
sion to  the  university."  pp.  123 — 126. 

You  will  please  to  remark,  Sir,  this  account  is 
substantially  admitted  by  the  Editors  of  the  Christian 
Observer.  For  they  say  uWe  might  have  stirred  to 
jealousy  our  English  universities  by  a  close  compari- 
son of  the  youth,  there  under  tuition  for  holy  orders, 
with  those  in  foreign  establishments.  We  might  have 
referred  our  venerable  pastors  to  that,  which  is  daily 
asserted  without  contradiction,  the  incomparably  great- 
er learning,  both  literary,  and  more  especially  theo- 
logical, to  be  found  in  the  youth  of  our  sister  ministry 
in  Scotland  to  that,  found  amongst  our  own.  Their 
eyes  might  have  been  directed  nearer  home  to  instan- 
ces of  religious  education,  vSuccessfully  conducted  even 
in  this  our  own  land  amongst  a  class,  whom  it  is  alike 
its  own  misfortune,  and  ours,  that  we  must  consider 
as  in  rivalry  with  ourselves;  and  they  might  have  been 
intreated  to  consider  what  ground  has  been  offered  for 
others  to  assert  that  even  a  large  majority  of  regular- 
ly educated  dissenting  ministers  are  better  versed  hi 
the  common  places  of  theology,  and  that  knowledge 
of  their  Bible,  on  which  as  a  science  it  rests,  than  even 
a  small  minority  of  our  rising  ministry.  Our  address 
would  then  have  humbly,  but  practically,  suggested  it 
to  the  conscience  of  each  authorized  instructor  of 
youth,  or  superintendant  of  the  church,  how  far  the 
wished-for  reform  be  not  dependent,  within  its  own 


60  Examination  far  Holy  Orders. 

sphere,  wholly  and  solely  upon  himself.  We  should 
have  advised  no  waiting  here  for  general  regulations, 
for  legislative  innovations,  or  metropolitan  societies 
for  the  education  of  the  clergy  on  Dr.  Bell's  plan,  to 
be  simultaneously  adopted  throughout  the  kingdom. 
The  change,  we  should  have  hinted,  as  in  our  minds 
the  only  practicable  one,  would  be  the  private,  and 
perhaps  unperceived  change,  which  each  collegiate,  or 
episcopal  dignitary  should  at  the  very  next  recurrence 
of  public  examination  think  himself  bound  in  duty  to 
adopt  in  regard  to  his  own  charge.  We  should  press 
upon  them  (with  all  due  deference  to  an  authority, 
whose  difficulties  can  only  be  understood  from  its  ex- 
ercise) the  shameful  instances  of  abuse  in  these  re- 
spects, which  we  are  constrained  to  fear,  are  often 
known  to  slip  by  those,  who  observe,  and  who  might 
prevent,  them,  but  do  it  not.  Upon  the  heads  or  tutors 
of  colleges,  or  professors,  might  be  urged  the  immense 
advantage,  they  respectively  possess,  for  impressing  on 
the  minds  of  their  pupils  the  nature  of  that  holy  office, 
into  which  many  are  to  pass  from  their  hands.  And 
even  on  the  most  venerable  order  itself  might  be  urged 
its  own  absolute  and  uncontroulable  power,  for  repel- 
ling any,  (if  they  please  without  a  reason)  who  shall 
dare  to  approach  them  uninformed,  unqualified  for  the 
sacred  office,  with  lips  untouched  by  the  flame  of  holy 
zeal,  or  censers  unhallowed,  to  bear  incense  in  the 
house  of  the  LORD.  Some  living  example,  to  this  ef- 
fect, and  some  \vho  live  but  in  grateful  recollection, 
might  have  been  cited,  whose  salutary  exertions  still 
rescue  episcopal  examination  from  absolute  contempt. 
And  finally,  we  should  have  pointed  to  that  great  day 
"when  the  Chief  Shepherd  shall  appear,"  and  asked,  if 
any  temporal  ease,  or  temporary  applause  for  crimin- 


Examination  Jar  Holy  Orders,  61 

al  levity,  in  the  discharge  of  their  important  duties 
would  be  well  purchased  by  a  burdened  conscience  in 
the  recollection  of  past  negligence,  or  by  a  single  frown 
from  His  countenance,  before  whom  "the  heavens  and 
the  earth  will  flee  away,  and  there  will  be  found  no 
place  for  them." 

Nor,  as  it  would  seem,  is  this  deplorable  state  of  ed- 
ucation for  the  Ministry  in  your  Church  any  thing 
new.  "By  reason  whereof,"  says  Hooker,  that  is,  "the 
rash  and  careless  ordaining  of  every  one,  that  hath  but 
a  friend  to  bestow  some  two  or  three  words  of  ordi- 
nary commendation  in  his  behalf;  the  church  groweth 
burdened  with  silly  creatures  more  than  need;  whose 
noted  baseness  and  insufficiency  bringeth  their  very 
order  itself  into  contempt." 

"Oar  Ember  weeks,"  says  Bishop  Burnet,  "are  the 
burden  and  grief  of  my  life.  The  much  greater  part 
of  those,  who  come  to  be  ordained,  are  ignorant  to  a 
degree,  not  to  be  apprehended  by  tose,  who  are  not 
obliged  to  know  it.  The  easiest  part  of  knowl- 
edge is  that,  to  which  they  are  the  greatest  strangers; 
I  mean  the  plainest  parts  of  the  Scriptures,  which, 
they  say  in  excuse  for  their  ignorance,  that  their  tutors 
in  the  universities  never  mentioned  the  reading  of  to 
them;  so  that  they  can  give  no  account,  or  at  least  a 
very  imperfect  one,  of  the  contents  even  of  the  Gos- 
pel. Those,  who  have  read  some  books,  yet  never 
seem  to  have  read  the  Scriptures.  Many  cannot  give 
a  tolerable  account  even  of  the  Catechism  itself,  how 
short  and  plain  soever.  They  cry,  and  think  it  a  sad 
disgrace  to  be  denied  orders,  though  the  ignorance  of 
some  is  such,  that  in  a  well  regulated  state  of  things 
they  would  appear  not  knowing  enough  to  be  admitted 

to  the  holt/  sacrament" 
Q 


62  Candidates  for  Holy  Orders: 

I  hope,  Sir,  that  when  you  and  your  brother  jour- 
nalists shall  have  read  these  statements,  we  shall  hear  no 
more  of  the  want  of  education,  or  of  examinations,  or 
of  diplomas,  or  of  testimonials  of  competency,  or  of 
any  other  qualifications,  in  the  young  men,  destin- 
ed to  the  Ministry  in  this  country.  I  presume  you 
have  not  read  them  hitherto,  if  you  have,  your  attack 
upon  us  is  as  shameless,  as  it  is  unfounded. 

That  you  may  not  suppose  me  to  place  an  Undue 
reliance  on  these  testimonies,  respectable  as  they  are,  I 
will  point  you  to  one  or  two  others.  In  the  46th 
Letter  of  Espriella,  you  may  find  the  following  de- 
clarations "There  is  to  be  found  every  where  a  great 
number  of  those  persons,  whom  we  cannot  prove  to 
be  human  beings,  by  any  rational  characteristic  which 
they  possess,  but  who  must  be  admitted  to  be  so  by  a 
sort  of  reductio  ad  absurditm,  because  they  cannot 
possibly  be  any  thing  else.  They  pass  for  men  in  the 
world,  because  it  has  pleased  God  for  wise  purposes, 
however  inscrutable  to  us,  to  set  them  upon  two  legs, 
instead  of  four;  to  give  them  smooth  skins,  and 
no  tail;  and  to  enable  them  to  speak  without  having 
their  tongues  slit.  They  are  like  those  weeds  which  will 
spring  up,  and  thrive  in  every  soil,  and  every  climate; 
and  which  no  favourable  circumstance  can  improve 
into  utility.  It  is  of  little  consequence  whether  they 
shoot  water  fow\,attend  horse  races,  frequent  the  broth- 
el, and  encourage  the  wine  trade,  in  one  place,  or  anoth- 
er; but  as  a  few  years  of  this  kind  of  life  usually  sat- 
isfy  a  man  for  the  rest  of  it,  it  is  convenient  that 
there  should  be  a  place  appointed,  where  one  of  this 
description  can  pass  through  his  course  of  studies  out  of 
sight  of  his  relations,  and  without  injuring  his  character, 
and  from  whence  he  can  cqme  with  the  advantage  of 


Non-Residence  of  the  English  Clergy.        53 

having  been  at  the  University,  and  a,  qualification, 
which  enables  him  to  undertake  the  cure  of  souls. 
Th<e  heretical  bishops  never  inquire  into  the  moral 
conduct  of  those,  upon  whom  they  lay  their  unhallowed 
hands:  and  as  for  the  quantity  af  learning,  which  is 
required,  Mr.  Maillardet,who  exhibits  his  Androeides 
in  London,  could  put  enough  into  an  automaton" 

As  these  letters  are  believed  to  have  been  written  by 
one  of  the  gentlemen,  who  write  in  the  Quarterly  Re- 
view; the  testimony,  which  he  gives  on  this  subject, 
will  be  readily  admitted  by  you.  But  what  must  be 
the  men;  what,  particularly,  the  Clergymen;  who  mer- 
it this  character;  and  who,  secluded  from  the  world, 
and  "out  of  sight  of  their  relations"  spend  their  time, 
without  injuring  their  character,  in  shooting  water 
fowl,  attending  horse  races,  frequenting  the  broth- 
el,  and  encouraging  the  wine  trade?"  And  what 
must  be  "the  quantity  of  learning,  which  is  required 
to  qualify  them  for  ordination,  when  Maillardet  could 
put  as  much  into  an  automaton?"  And  what  must  be 
the  Bishops,  who  never  inquire  into  the  moral  con- 
duct of  those,  upon  whom  they  lay  their  hands? 

On  Monday,  June  18,  1810,  the  Earl  of  Harrowby 
delivered  a  speech  in  the  House  of  Lords  upon  a 
clause  in  the  Appropriation  act  for  granting  the  sum  of 
100,000  pounds  for  the  relief  of  the  poorer  Clergy.  In 
this  speech  is  presented  to  the  public  an  extensive,  mi- 
nute, and  very  melancholy  view  of  the  state  of  your 
parishes.  Among  the  different  painful  exhibitions, 
made  by  his  Lordship  of  this  subject,  that  of  the  non- 
residence  of  your  -Clergy  is  I  think  the  most  painful. 
He  informs  .us,  that  of  incumbents,  in  eleven  thousand 
one  hundred  and  sixty-four  benefices  and  dignities, 
thei;e  were  only  five  thousand  and  forty  legally  or 


04        Non- Residence  of  the  English  Clergy. 

virtually  resident;  and  of  course  there  were  six  thou- 
sand one  hundred  and  twenty -four  livings,  on  which 
the  incumbents  did  not  reside.  In  this  land  of  barba- 
rism, and  blunders,  it  is  difficult  to  avoid  asking, 
Where  were  these  six  thousand  one  hundred  and 
twenty -four  Ministers  of  the  Gospel?  Every  one  of 
them  declared,  antecedently  to  his  entrance  into  holy 
orders,  that  he  verily  believed  himself  moved  by  the 
Holy  Ghost  to  assume  the  sacred  office.  For  what 
did  these  men  believe  the  Holy  Ghost  moved  them  to 
take  upon  themselves  the  Evangelical  Ministry?  Was 
it  to  assume  the  office,  and  forget  its  duties;  profess- 
edly to  take  the  charge  of  the  flock,  and  then  leave 
them  to  "strangers,  who  care  not  for  them;"  to  gain  a 
right  to  the  living,  without  performing  the  service  to 
which  it  is  annexed;  to  spend  their  life  in  pleasure, 
and  leave  the  souls  of  their  congregation  to  perish? 

The  true  reasons  for  this  shameless  violation  of  all 
their  vows,  this  prostitution  of  their  office,  this  aban- 
donment of  their  duty,  are,  I  strongly  suspect,  found 
in  the  following  passage,  in  the  Review  of  the  Letters 
to  Mr.  Perceval. 

"We  presume  to  propose  a  similar  style  of  address 
to  the  Clergy  at  large,  upon  the  subject  of  another 
leading  complaint,  urged  in  this  pamphlet — against 
their  negligent  discharge  of  the  pastoral  duties.  But 
let  us  first  hear,  and  offer  a  few  remarks  upon  the  lan- 
guage of  this  complaint  itself.  "A  great  proportion  of 
our  Clergy,"  he  tells  us,  "are  a  set  of  men,  wrapt  up 
in  secular  pursuits,  with  a  total  indifference  to  tht 
spiritual  duties  of  their  calling.  Many  of  them  seem 
to  consider,  that  they  arc  appointed  to  a  life  of  sloth 
and  inactivity,  or  merely  to  feed  upon  the  fat  of  the 
land}  and  that  in  return  for  immense  and  growing 


Non-Residence  of  the  English  Clergy.        tot> 

revenues  they  have  only  to  gabble  through  a  few  for- 
mal  offices"  &c.  Many  exceptions  indeed  he  speaks 
of,  and  congratulates  us  on  the  learning  and  piety  of 
many  in  the  higher  offices  of  the  church.  "But  for 
all  this  I  fear  a  great  proportion  of  the  Clergy  are  the 
very  reverse  of  these  high  examples — and  betray  art 
indifference  of  conduct,  and  dissoluteness  of  manners, 
which,  whilst  it  is  most  shameful  to  them,  would  not 
be  borne  ^ith  in  any  other  state  of  life."  He  then 
talks  of  "the  reverend  associates,  and  abettors,  of  pub- 
lic corruption  and  profligacy,  walking  about  our 
streets,  unsilenced,  and  unchastised.  A  horse  race,  a 
fox  chase,  or  a  boxing  match,  is  never  without  its  rev- 
erend attendants;  and  the  man,  who  in  the  house  of 
God  hurries  over  the  offices  of  devotion,  as  beneath 
his  attention,  will  be  seen  the  next  day  the  noisy  toast- 
master,  or  songster,  of  a  club."  "Their  professional 
indolence,  but  one  degree  removed  from  positive  mis- 
conduct," he  next  contrasts  with  "their  occasional  ac- 
tivity at  a  county  election  in  a  cathedral  county  town, 
You  have  the  honour  of  finding  yourself  in  such  con- 
tests acting  in  concert  with  deans,  chancellors,  arch- 
deacons, prebendaries,  and  minor-canons  without 
number.  On  such  occasions  grave,  very  grave,  per- 
sons are  to  be  seen,  shouting  the  chorus  of  some  cle( 
tion  ribaldry,  whose  zeal,  or  even  common  industry 
upon  more  important  topics  he  had  never  witness- 
ed."" pp  37—40. 

After  attributing  the  success  of  the  dissenters  tq 
the  luke-warmness  of  the  established  clergy,  our  wri- 
ter proceeds,  in  page  60,  to  state  "/Ac  great  abuse  of 
single  duty — some-times  only  every  other  Sunday;" 
which  he  declares  to  be  the  case  in  as  great  a  propor- 
tion of  livings  above,  as  below,  five  hundred  pounds 


g§        Neglect  of  Duty  by  the  English  Clergy. 

per  annum,     Advertisements  to  this  effect  he  men- 
tions, though  perfectly  irregular,  yet  as  appearing  in 
the  very  face  of  the  diocesan,  &c."    "Of  the  manner, 
and  the  time,  also,  in  which  single  duty  is  performed, 
it  is  equally  necessary  to  speak;  often  at  ten,  some- 
times at  nine,  in  the  morning;  leaving  all  the  rest  of 
the  day  to  revelling  and  drunkenness,  or,  what  is  more 
common  now,  to  the  itinerant  enthusiast.     And  as  to 
manner;    A  clergyman,  who  gallops  to  the  church, 
gallops  through    the  service,    and   gallops    away 
again,  is  generally  too  unique  in  his  ideas  to  con- 
form to  others,  though  sworn  to  obey  them;  and  has 
of  course  a  liturgy  and  a  rubric  of  his  own.     The 
Decalogue  is  hurried  over  in  the  desk  with  as  little 
ceremony,  as  the  detail  of  a  fox  chase.     And  in  many 
parishes  the  whole  morning  service  does  not  (includ- 
ing the  sermon)   occupy  three  quarters  of  an  hour. 
The  infrequency  of  the  sacrament  is  likewise  alluded 
to,  and  the  excuse  justly  reprobated,  that  there  are  no 
communicants,  which  only  implies  a  further  neglect 
in  the  clergyman — also  the  neglect  of  catechizing  con- 
trary to  "the  Methodists."    There  a  great  part  of  the 
Sabbath  is  set  apart  for  the  instruction  of  children  in 
their  particular  tenets.     And  often,  while  the  parish 
priest  is  lolling  on  his  sofa,  after  the  imaginary  fa- 
tigues of  his  unusual  exertions,  under  his  very  nose 
are  these  intruders  zealously  undermining  the  estab- 
lishment, which  gives  him  bread."     Original  compo- 
sition, it  is  next  observed,  is  scarcely  known  among 
them;  and  even  their  selections  are  represented  as  in- 
judicious, and  so  often  repeated,  as  to  be  quite  famil- 
iar to  the  audience.     And  finally,  "pastoral  visits  are 
not  only  greatly  neglected,  or  wholly  discontinued, 
but  even  their  obligation  is  denied;  and  the  clergy  are 


Neglect  of  Duty  by  the  English  Clergy.     07 

convinced  that  the  duties  of  hospitality,  and  of  domes- 
tic instruction  and  consolation  to  the  young,  the  de- 
praved, the  decrepid,  and  the  dying,  form  no  part  of  the 
demands  which  their  parishioners  have  upon  them.w 
pp.  68 — 70.  To  all  which  the  state  of  the  London 
clergy  is  represented  as  affording  a  faint,  though  lau- 
dable exception."  p.  74,  &c. 

Now,  Sir,  when  "the  principles  of  religion  form,  at 
Cambridge  no  step  whatever,  and,  at  Oxford,  a  very 
trifling  one,  to  a  degree;"  when  the  student  has  "often 
by  Euclid  alone  attained  that  object,  and  become  a 
candidate  for  holy  orders;'7  when  "so  very  tax  has 
become  the  examination  for  orders,  that  there  is  no 
man,  who  has  taken  a  degree  at  the  university,  who 
cannot  reckon  on  ordination  as  a  certainty,  whatever 
his  attainments  in  learning,  morals,  or  religion;"  when 
"the  only  qualifications  are  to  be  able  to  construe  a 
chapter  in  the  Greek  Testament,  and  answer  a  few 
questions  out  of  Grotius;"  when  one  of  these  young 
men  to  the  question,  "Who  was  the  Mediator  be- 
tween  God  and  man?"  answered  "The  Archbishop  of 
Canterbury,"  what  must  be  the  future  character  of 
the  Clergy,  thus  inducted  into  their  sacred  office? 
Must  not  "a  great  proportion  of  them  be,  as  asserted 
by  this  Letter- writer,  "a  set  of  men,  wrapt  up  in  secu- 
lar pursuits,  with  a  total  indifference  to  the  spiritual 
duties  of  their  calling?"  Is  it  strange,  that  "many  of 
them  seem  to  consider  that  they  are  appointed  to  a 
life  of  sloth  and  inactivity,  or  merely  to  feed  upon  the 
fat  of  the  land;  and  that  in  return  for  immense  and 
growing  revenues  they  have  only  to  gabble  through  a 
few  formal  offices?  Can  we  be  surprised  that  the  rev- 
erend associates,  and  abettors,  of  public  corruption 
and  profligacy  walk  about  your  greets,  unsilenced 


08        Neglect  of  Duty  by  the  English  Clergy. 

and  unchastised;  that  a  horse  race,  a  fox  chase,  or  a 
boxing  match,"  which  I  suppose  are  in  the  list  of 
clerical  amusements  in  Great  Britain,  "is  never  with- 
out  its  reverend  attendants,  and  that  the  man,  who  in 
the  house  of  God  hurries  over  the  offices  of  devotion, 
as  beneath  his  attention,  will  be  seen  the  next  day, 
the  noisy  toast-master,  or  songster  of  a  clubV  Are  we 
to  be  astonished,  when  we  consider  "their  professional 
indolence,  but  one  degree  removed  from  positive  mis- 
conduct, as  a  contrast  to  their  occasional  activity  at  a 
county  election  in  a  cathedral  county  town;  or  that  in 
such  contests  you  have  the  honour  of  finding  yourself 
acting  in  concert  with  deans,  chancellors,  archdea- 
cons, prebendaries  and  minor-canons  without  num- 
ber; or  that  on  such  occasions  grave,  very  grave, 
persons  are  to  be  seen,  shouting  the  chorus  of  some 
election  ribaldry?" 

Can  you,  Sir,  can  any  Englishman,  wonder,  that, 
when  such  is  the  manner  of  induction  into  the  sacred 
office,  ^'single  duty  should  be  sometimes  performed  on- 
ly every  other  Sunday,  at  ten,  or  even  at  nine,  in  the 
morning,  leaving  all  the  rest  of  the  day  to  revelling  and 
drunkenness;  or  that  a  Clergyman,  'who  gallops  to  the 
church,  gallops  through  the  service,  and  gallops  away 
again;  that  he  has  a  liturgy  and  rubric  of  his  own; 
that  the  Decalogue  is  hurried  over  in  the  desk  with 
as  little  ceremony  as  the  detail  of  a  fox  chase;  that  in 
many  parishes  the  whole  morning  service  does  not 
(including  the  sermon)  occupy  three  quarters  of  an 
hour;  that  the  sacrament  should  be  unfrequently  ad- 
ministered, and  that  it  should  be  alleged,  as  an  excuse, 
that  there  are  no  communicants;  or  that  original 
composition  is  scarcely  known  among  these  Minis- 
ters: that  even  their  selections  are  injudicious;  and  se 


Neglect  of  Duly  by  the  English  Clergy.      69 

often  repeated,  as  to  be  quite  familiar  to  the  audience; 
or  that  pastoral  visits  should  not  only  be  greatly  neg- 
lected, or  wholly  discontinued,  but  even  their  obliga- 
tion be  denied;  or  that  the  Clergy  should  be  convin- 
ced, that  the  duties  of  hospitality  and  of  domestic  in- 
struction and  consolation  to  the  young,  the  depraved, 
the  decrepid,  and  the  dying,  form  no  part  of  the  de- 
mand, which  their  parishioners  have  upon  them?" 

To  these  remarks,  the  Letter-writer  mentions  the 
London  Clergy  as  affording  a  faint,  though  laudable 
exception.  Is  it,  then,  true,  Sir,  that  the  London 
Clergy  furnish  the  only  exception,  found  in  any  con- 
siderable body  of  your  ministers,  to  such  a  story  as 
this?  And  is  that  only  exception  a  faint  one?  What 
man,  Sir,  besides  a  Reviewer,  and  he,  sheltered  under 
his  anonymous  character,  could  ever  be  induced,  with 
this  picture  of  the  Clergy  in  his  own  country  before 
him,  to  attack,  or  even  to  censure,  those  of  any  other 
country?  Where  is  the  country,  of  which  this  story 
could  be  truly  told  a  second  time? 

With  these  things  in  view,  the  account  of  Lord  Har- 
rowby,  in  itself  apparently  surpassing  all  belief,  is  easily 
explained.  It  ceases  to  be  a  matter  of  astonishment, 
that  many  of  your  Clergy  should  be  non-residents. 
We  should  not,  indeed,  suspect,  nor  without  the  most 
authentic  and  decisive  information  believe,  that  the 
number  of  unprincipled  Clergymen,  so  forcibly  char- 
acterized by  the  Letter- writer,  could,  out  of  eleven 
thousand  one  hundred  and  sixty-four,  be  six  thousand 
one  hundred  and  twenty-four.  The  fact  is  wonderful. 
The  number  of  instances,  to  which  it  is  extended,  is 
portentous.  Most  ardently  must  every  good  man  wish, 
that  it  may  be  rapidly  diminished. 
10 


70  Merchants  of  the  United  States. 

In  answer  to  all  these  observations  you  may  possi- 
sibly  ask  how  great  a  proportion  of  Ministers  are  non- 
residents in  the  United  States.  In  New  England 
there  is  not  one:  there  never  was  one:  and,  so  far  as 
my  knowledge  extends,  there  is  not  one  in  any  part  of 
the  American  Union.  I  speak  of  regular  and  settled 
Ministers,  and  not  of  Methodists,  and  other  wander- 
ing preachers,  professedly  unsettled.  Our  Ministers, 
also,  perform  all  the  duties,  which  the  Letter-writer 
complains  of,  as  being  neglected  by  yours.  They 
preach  sermons,  composed  by  themselves,  twice  every 
Sabbath.  They  are  not  guilty  of  what  the  Christian 
Observer  calls  "that  very  pernicious  ministerial  de- 
linquency; preaching  habitually  other  compositions 
than  their  own"  "  This  practice,"  says  the  able  Re- 
viewer of  the  Letters  above  mentioned,  "fraught  with 
every  deadening  principle,  and  whose  only  excuse  is 
that  which  intimates  a  man  to  be  no  credit  to  his  pro- 
fession, is,  we  verily  think,  the  only  means,  by  which 
the  last  degree  oj  ignorance  and  insensibility  can  be 
made  compatible  with  the  sacred  office"  This  prac- 
tice, Sir,  would  ruin  any  man,  who  appeared  in  the 
desk,  and  has  neither  credit,  nor  place,  here. 

"The  Merchants  of  the  United  States,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  New  England"  you  say,  "are  a  very  dif- 
ferent class  of  men  from  those,  who  follow  that  pro- 
fession in  Europe"  As  a  Yankee,  I  might  fairly  ex- 
cuse myself  from  paying  any  attention  to  this  subject; 
and  leave  it  to  the  merchants  in  the  other  parts  oif  the 
Union  to  defend  themselves.  I  will,  however,  make 
a  few  observations  concerning  this  professedly  superi- 
our  character  of  your  merchants. 

Liverpool,  the  second  trading  town  in  England, 
has  derived  a  great  part  of  its  wealth,  and  even  of  its 


English  Merchants.  71 

existence,  from  the  most  abominable  of  all  traffic;  that 
which  is  charged  upon  Babylon,  in  the  Apocalypse,  as 
one  of  its  tremendous  crimes;  dealing  "in  slaves,  and 
the  souls  of  men."  You  will  perhaps  say,  and  may 
undoubtedly  say  with  truth,  that  the  Americans  have 
been  guilty  of  the  same  traffic.  But,  Sir,  this  traffic 
has  here  been  confined  to  a  few  spots,  and  a  very  few 
hands;  and,  since  we  have  had  power  to  punish  it,  to 
such  hands  only  as  the  diligence  of  law  could  not 
seize:  an  evil,  which  will  certainly  create  no  surprise 
in  a  country,  where  smuggling  is  so  extensively  carri- 
ed on,  as  in  Great  Britain,  Your  little  finger  has 
been  thicker  than  our  loins.  Such  has  been  the  fact 
from  the  date  of  our  independence. 

Of  the  trade,  which  about  the  year  1810  you  carri- 
ed on  with  France,  your  own  writers  declare,*  that 
"it  was  carried  on  by  means  avowedly  fraudulent; 
with  false  oaths  and  forged  certificates;  and  diffus- 
ed profligacy  and  corruption  through  the  different 
ranks  of  the  mercantile  world;  that  those  employed 
in  it,  were  a  various  and  motley  race  of  men,  possess- 
ing, many  of  them,  a  strange  ubiquity  of  character; 
were  Jews  and  Gentiles;  traders  who  were  at  once 
Englishmen  and  Americans;  transforming  themselves 
into  every  imaginable  shape,  as  the  occasion  might  re- 
quire." They  say,  "this  commerce  was  carried  on 
through  the  medium  of  false  custom-house  entries,  or 
declarations,  made  either  by  the  merchants,  or  those 
employed  by  them"  "Many  of  the  captains,  employ- 
ed by  your  merchants,"  they  say,  "were  placed  in  the 
unhappy  predicament  of  being  obliged  to  substantiate, 
by  oat  h,  any  false  declaration,  which  had  been  p 

•<  istian  Observer. 


72  English  Merchants. 

ously  made  concerning  the  subject  of  commerce.^ 
They  also  say,  that  the  practice  of  using  false  papers, 
at  sea,  was  another  subject  for  animadversion:  and 
one  of  your  writers  says,  he  had  heard,  that  "rt  manu- 
factory of  these  documents  was  carried  on  to  a  prodi- 
gious extent  by  certain  individuals,  who  were  welt 
skilled  in  the  art  of  forging  them"  He  subjoins, 
"there  are  a  thousand  other  frauds,  subterfuges,  and 
contrivances,  by  which  commercial  objects  are  pursu- 
ed in  these  unhappy  days  of  the  mutual  prohibition  of 
traffic  among  nations.  Property,  it  is  pleaded,  must 
be  covered.  He,  that  pushes  British  manufactures 
into  the  Continent,  is  called  a  benefactor  to  his  coun- 
try; but  there  is  a  whole  mystery  of  iniquity  which 
involves  many  of  these  transactions;  and  few,  as  I 
fear,  among  our  foreign  merchants,  are  now  able  to 
say,  that  they  "have  the  testimony  of  their  con- 
sciences, that  in  simplicity,  and  godly  sincerity,  they 
have  their  conversation  in  the  world."5' 

Circumstanced  as  this  subject  is,  it  will  be  sufficient 
to  have  made  these  observations.  What  would  have 
been  its  appearance,  had  you  traced  its  serpentine 
progress,  through  all  the  various  windings,  with  the 
same  spirit,  with  which  you  have  attacked  the  people 
of  the  United  States? 

From  your  coflection  of  travellers,  you  then  proceed 
to  give  an  account  of  the  Morals,  and  Manners,  of 
the  inhabitants  of  this  country.  Your  first  complaint 
is  of  our  Landjobbers.  In  behalf  of  these  men,  1  have 
little  to  say;  and  concerning  most  of  them  entertain 
an  opinion,  as  unfavourable  as  yours.  The  number 
of  them  is  inconsiderable.  Some  of  them  are  proba- 
bly, indeed  1  know  some  of  them  to  be,  men  of  irre- 
proachable characters.  Others  are  rogues:  and  your 


Manners  in  the   United  S fates.  73 

countrymen,  as  well  as  mine,  have  suffered  severely 
from  their  frauds.  Both  have,  therefore,  a  right  to 
complain,  without  any  animadversion  from  me.  At 
the  same  time  you  have  no  lands  for  sale,  by  the  pur- 
chase of  which  men  can  become  landjobbers;  and, 
therefore,  are  on  this  score  safe  from  any  censure. 
But,  Sir,  from  this  inconsiderable  number  of  men, 
amounting  probably  to  less  than  five  hundred  in  the 
United  States,  you  ought  not  to  have  taken  the  char- 
acter of  a  nation. 

You  then  inform  us,  that  "the  moment  a  foreigner 
sets  his  foot  on  the  quay,  he  is  surrounded  by  a  set  of 
idlers,  who  very  familiarly  ask  him  a  thousand  ques- 
tions," of  which  you  give  us  a  string  sufficiently  long. 
Permit  me  to  inform  you,  Sir,  that  if  you  believe  this 
tale  of  a  cock  and  a  bull,  your  confidence  has  been 
abused;  and  that  such  a  set  of  questions  was  never 
asked  of  any  foreigner,  in  these  circumstances,  since 
America  was  discovered.  Foreigners  are  here  treated 
with  more  civility  than  they  ordinarily  meet  with  in 
England,  and  with  incomparably  more  than  most  of 
those,  who  visit  us,  deserve. 

"The  unfortunate  man,"  you  then  inform  us,  "has- 
tens to  make  his  escape  to  the  tavern,  Here,"  you  say, 
"he  is  forthwith  beset  by  a  swarm  of  speculators,  of  a 
superiour  order.  Having  run  the  gauntlet  through 
these,  he  is  left,  but,  alas!  not  to  a  quiet  fireside,  and  a 
solitary  meal.  His  landlord  and  landlady,"  you  say, 
in  language,  sufficiently  coarse,  "seat  themselves  at 
table  with  him,  together  with  their  dirty  children,  and 
perhaps  too  with  their  servants;  and  the  children  seize 
the  stranger's  drink,  slobber  in  it,  and  often  snatch  a 
dainty  bit  from  his  plate."  More  quotations  are.  I 
presume,  unnecessary. 


74  American  Taverns. 

AH  this  you  have  said  with  Lambert  in  your  hands: 
for  you  have  quoted  from  him  a  passage,  whieh  you 
thought  might  aid  your  attempts  to  scandalize  this 
country.  Had  you  possessed  the  least  candour,  you 
could  not,  I  think,  have  failed,  (in  the  midst  of  the 
numerous  aspersions,  which  you  have  heaped  together 
from  every  dirty  source,  within  your  reach,)  to  quote 
the  following  passages  from  that  sensible  and  fair- 
minded  writer. 

"Much  has  been  said  by  former  travellers  of  the 
familiarity,  and  rudeness,  of  the  American  people. 
I  will  not  attempt  to  contradict  their  assertions;  but 
for  myself  I  must  declare,  in  justice  to  the  American 
character;  that  I  experienced  the  utmost  civility  and 
even  politeness  from  the  inhabitants  in  every  part  of 
the  country  through  which  I  travelled.  The  coach- 
men were  civil,  and  the  tavern-keepers  attentive;  and 
wherever  I  had  occasion  to  mix  with  the  country  peo- 
ple, I  never  met  with  the  least  rudeness,  or  shadow  oj 
impertinence  on  any  occasion:  on  the  contrary,  they 
were  civil  and  obliging." 

"At  the  taverns  and  farm  houses,  where  we  rested  on 
the  road,  we  found  the  people  extremely  civil  and  atten- 
tive. We  were  treated  with  as  much  respect,  as  if  we 
had  been  at  our  own  houses:  and  the  landlord,  his  wife, 
and  daughters,  waited  on  us  in  the  most  obliging 
manner.  I  do  not  mention  this  as  a  solitary  instance: 
it  was  general,  at  every  house,  wJiere  we  stopped. 
Neither  have  I  drawn  my  conclusions  merely  from 
the  reception,  I  met  with  at  taverns,  and  other  places 
of  public  resort,  but  from  my  observations  upon  the 
people  in  general,  with  whom  /  had  frequent  opportu- 
nities of  mi{cing,  whet  her  they  belonged  to  the  highest, 
f)r  the  lowest,  orders  of  the  community.  I  believe  it 


American  Taverns.  75 

is  generally  allowed,  that  for  a  traveller,  who  wishes 
to  make  himself  master  of  the  real  character  and  dis- 
position of  a  people,  it  is  not  sufficient,  that  he  asso- 
ciates only  with  the  grandees  of  a  nation.  He  must 
mix  with  the  plebeians:  otherwise  he  acquires  but  false 
ideas  of  the  country,  and  its  inhabitants.  uThe  great 
mass  of  nations,"  says  Dr.  Johnson,  "are  neither  rich 
nor  gay.  They,  whose  aggregate  constitutes  the  peo- 
ple, are  found  in  the  streets  and  the  villages,  in  the 
shops  and  the  farms:  and  from  them,  collectively  con- 
sidered, must  the  measure  of  general  prosperity  be 
taken."  From  these  I  have  judged  of  the  real  char- 
acter of  the  Americans;  and  I  found  it  as  difficult  to 
discover  a  single  particle  of  rudeness,  in  the  beha- 
viour of  the  men,  as  it  was  to  discover  an  ugly  face, 
or  bad  teeth  among  the  young  women."* 

I  hope,  Sir,  these  testimonies  from  the  only  British 
traveller  in  the  U.  S.  within  my  information,  who  has 
united  intelligence,  candour,  and  veracity,  will  be  ad- 
mitted even  by  you,  as  a  proof  that  the  senseless,  and 
brutal  calumnies,  which  you  have  assembled  with  so 
much  diligence,  are  not  a  just  representation  even  of 
American  taverns. 

Our  inns,  I  feel  assured,  are  inferiour  to  yours;f  but 
J  am  informed  by  authority,  which,  if  I  were  to  name 
it,  even  you  would  respect,  that  they  are  superiour  to 
those  of  any  country  on  the  European  Continent.  At 


*  Lambert,  vol.  iii,  p.  98. 

f  "It  is  not  common  to  find  poor  inns  in  England;  but  in  this  instance  w«  were 
served  with  miserable  tea,  and  miserable  bread,  and  attended  by  a  surly  waiter. 
I  came  to  the  house  with  extreme  fatigue,  and  left  it  with  extreme  disgust." 
Sill.  Journ.  See  on  this  subject  the  travels  of  M.  Jllorier,  a  Prussian  Clergy- 
man. The  truth  is;  the  inns  in  England  are  good  wherever  there  is  sufficient 
travelling,  (and  that  of  Avealthy  people,)  to  support  the  expense  of  costly  accom- 
modations: where  there  is  not,  they  are  bad;  as  in  other  countries. 


76  American  Taverns. 

the  same  time  your  inns  are  enormously  expensive; 
and  may  well  afford  to  furnish  many  gratifications  to 
an  epicure,  which  are  not  found,  because  they  cannot 
be  afforded,  in  ours.  Our  inn-keepers  cannot  build 
so  large  houses,  and  of  course  cannot  furnish  such  a 
multitude  of  rooms;  nor  can  they  keep  such  a  train  of 
servants.  Travellers,  here,  are  not  generally  rich 
enough,  to  be  at  the  expense  of  such  costly  accommo- 
dations. 

Concerning  the  food  in  our  inns,  take,  if  you  please, 
the  account  given  by  Lambert.*  "We  put  up  for  the 
night  at  a  very  good  tavern,  where  we  were  supplied 
with  an  excellent  supper,  composed  of  as  great  a  vari- 
ety as  we  met  with  for  breakfast  at  Shelburne,  and 
which  is  customary  at  all  the  taverns  throughout  the 
northern  States" 

Again.  "At  the  better  sort  of  American  taverns,  or 
hotels,  very  excellent  dinners  are  provided,  consisting 
of  almost  every  thing  in  season.  The  hour  is  from 
two  to  three  o'clock;  and  there  are  three  meals  in  a  day. 
They  breakfast  at  eight  o'clock,  on  rump -steaks,  fish, 
eggs,  and  a  variety  of  cakes,  with  tea  or  coffee.  The 
last  meal  is  at  seven  in  the  evening;  and  consists  of  as 
substantial  fare  as  the  breakfast,  with  the  addition  of 
cold  fowl,  or  ham,  &c.  The  price  of  boarding  at 
these  houses  is  from  a  dollar  and  a  half  to  two  dollars 
per  day.  Brandy,  hollands,  and  other  spirits,  are  al- 
lowed at  dinner;  but  every  other  liquor  is  paid  for 
extra.  English  breakfasts,  and  teas,  generally  speak- 
ing, are  meagre  repasts,  compared  with  those  of  Amer- 
ica: and,  as  far  as  I  had  an  opportunity  of  observing, 
the  people  live,  with  respect  to  eating,  in  a  much  more 

*  Vol.  K,  p.  122. 


English  Taverns.  77 

luxurious  manner  than  we  do;  particularly  in  the  great 
towns  and  their  neighbourhoods."* 

The  price  of  your  accommodations  would  certainly 
furnish  very  genteel  living  in  this  country.  They  are 
stated  by  the  American  traveller,  whose  Journal  I 
have  several  times  quoted,  at  the  following  rates; 

I.  s.  d. 

Bed,  -  -     0    1    6 

Breakfast  of  tea,  or  coffee,  with  toast,  and 

an  egg,  0    1    8 

Tea  at  evening,  -  018 

Dinner,  of  two  dishes,  with  a  frugal  desert,       050 
Glass  of  beer,  -  008 

Bottle  of  Sherry,  -  -  060 

Of  Port,  .  050 

Of  Madeira,  -  090 

Waiter,  3d  a  meal,  -    0   0   9 

Chambermaid,each  night,for  making  your  bed,  006 
Boots,   for  every  pair  of  shoes,   and   boots, 

which  he  brushes,  002 

Ostler,  each  night,  006 

Porter  for  carrying  baggage,  in  and  out,  006 

And  these  are  the  lowest  rates,  which  a  gentleman 

ean  possibly  pay;  and  none  of  them  can  be  refused. 

I  have  stated  these  rates,  also,  at  the  lowest  esti- 
mates, mentioned  by  this  gentleman.  This,  Sir, 
makes  the  ordinary  expense  of  a  traveller,  with  one 
horse,  and  without  a  servant,  a  guinea  a  day  at  a 
moderate  computation;  or  more  than  one  thousand 
seven  hundred  dollars  a  year.  This  sum,  in  America, 
at  least  in  New  England,  would  purchase  a  very  libe- 
ral supply  of  Epicurean  enjoyments  for  a  large  family. 

*  Lambert,  TO!,  ii,  p,  132. 
11 


38  English  Taverns. 

Less  than  half  of  it  does  actually  purchase  them  foi"  a 
single  traveller. 

But  there  is  another  fact,  which  illustrates  this  sub- 
ject in  a  different  manner.  "The  servants  at  the  pub- 
lic houses  in  England"  says  the  gentleman,  mention- 
ed above,  "are  paid  by  the  guests,  and  not  by  their  em- 
ployers. They  not  only  receive  no  wages,  but  many 
of  them  pay  a  premium  for  their  places:  that  is,  the 
masters  of  tne  hotels  farm  out  to  their  servants  the  priv- 
ilege of  levying  contributions;  and  the  consideration 
is  their  service.  At  our  hotel  (  The  Liverpool  Arms) 
the  chief  waiter  assured  us,  that  he  paid  one  hundred 
pounds  per  annum  for  his  place,  besides  paying  two 
under  waiters,  and  finding  all  the  clothes  brushes,  and 
some  other  et  ceteras  of  the  house.  He  had  moreover, 
if  we  might  credit  his  story,  a  wife  and  five  children 
to  support.  The  head  waiters  are  commonly  young 
men  of  a  genteel  appearance,  and  often  dress  as  well 
as  gentlemen."* 

Were  the  servants  in  our  inns  to  pay  for  their 
places,  we  might  undoubtedly  be  furnished  with  an 
assortment  of  them  for  every  inn  upon  very  easy 
terms.  But  the  custom  of  taxing  travellers  in  this 
manner  is  unworthy  of  the  character  of  a  civilized 
nation;  a  despicable  mode  of  plundering  strangers  by 
a  set  of  harpies. 

The  remaining  part  of  your  Review,  Sir,  is  chiefly 
made  up  of  attacks,  founded  on  the  Works  of  Ashe. 
Janson,  Porcupine,  and  Priest.  I  am  not  in  posses- 
sion  of  Priest's  Travels;  and  can,  therefore,  say  noth- 
ing concerning  them.  With  Porcupine  you  are  suf- 
ficiently acquainted.  The  works  of  the  other  writers 

*  SilL  Jonrn.  vol.  i. 


American  Women.  7D 

are  as  little  entitled  to  credit  as  those  of  Sir  John 
Mandeville,  of  whom  I  remember  to  have  seen  this 
character  given,  when  I  was  a  boy,  that  he  was  the 
greatest  traveller  and  the  greatest  Iiar9  in  the  world. 

You  accuse  us  of  having  civil  and  military  officers 
for  our  inn-keepers.  I  admit  the  charge,  that  such 
persons  are  in  some  instances  found  in  this  list.  Pray, 
Sir,  will  you  please  to  inform  me  what  there  is  in  the 
fact,  disgraceful  either  to  them,  or  to  the  country.  Inn- 
keepers are,  here,  generally  men  of  very  fair  reputa- 
tion; and  why  they  may  not  hold  these  offices,  and 
keep  inns,  at  the  same  time,  cannot  be  explained;  un- 
less you  can  prove  that  your  manners,  only,  are  right? 
and  that  we  are  obliged  to  conform  to  them.* 

Your  attack  on  the  Women  of  this  country  is 
equally  false,  and  brutal.  I  have  heard  an  advanta- 
geous character  of  the  women  of  Great  Britain;  and 
believe  it  to  be  just:  but  I  fear  not  the  result  of  a  com- 
parison between  the  fair  sex  in  this  country  and  in 
any  other.  There  is  no  country  on  the  globe,  where 
women  are  more  unspotted,  more  delicate,  or  more 
amiable.  Had  you  resided  here  long  enough  to  form 
an  opinion,  you  would  blush,  to  your  dying  day,  for 
the  foul  treatment,  which  they  have  received  from 
you.  A  countryman  of  yours  has  characterized  them 
in  the  following  manner. 

"The  females  of  the  New  England  States  are  con- 
spicuous  for  their  domestic  virtues.  Every  thing  in 
their  houses  has  an  air  of  cleanliness,  order,  and  cecou- 

*  In  a  debate  in  the  House  of  Commons,  June  1805,  Co!.  CraieforJ,  in  a  la- 
boured  attack  oh  the  Volunteer  system,  sneered  at  the  Officers  of  the  Volunteer 
:«orps  because  they  were  frequently  taken  from  humble  life.  A  London  Pastry 
Cook,  he  declared,  was,  within  his  knowledge,  a  Colonel  of  Voluntcerx.  Loiv> 
Castlereagh,  who  replied  to  him,  did  not  deny  the  fact.  It  would  be  difficult  to 
assign  a  reason,  why  an  American  Inn-keeper  may  not  command  a  regiment  <••' 
•uUitia  with  as  much  propriety  as  an  English  Pastry  ' 


80  American  Women. 

omy,  that  display  the  female  character  to  the  greatest 
advantage.  The  young  women  are  really  handsome. 
They  have  almost  all  fair  complexions,  often  tinged 
with  the  rosy  bloom  of  health.  They  have  generally 
good,  and  sometimes  excellent  teeth.  Nor  did  I  see 
m<  re  instances  to  the  contrary  among  the  young  wo- 
men of  America  than  are  to  be  met  with  in  England. 
Their  light  hair  is  tastefully  turned  up  behind  in  the 
modern  style,  and  fastened  with  a  comb.  Their  dress 
is  neat,  simple,  and  genteel;  usually  consisting  of  a 
printed  cotton  jacket  with  long  sleeves,  a  petticoat  of 
the  same,  with  a  coloured  cotton  apron,  or  pin  cloth, 
without  sleeves,  tied  tight,  and  covering  the  lower  part 
of  the  bosom.  This  seemed  to  be  the  prevailing  dress 
in  the  country  places.  Their  manners  are  easy,  affable, 
and  polite,  and  free  from  all  uncouth  rusticity.  Indeed 
they  appear  to  be  as  polished  and  well  bred,  as  the 
ladies  in  the  cities,  although  they  may  not  possess 
their  highly  finished  education."* 

These  observations  are  unquestionably  just,  and  fall, 
in  various  respects,  not  a  little  short  of  the  truth.  Do- 
mestic happiness,  if  the  accounts  given  to  mankind  of 
the  state  of  society  on  the  Eastern  Continent,  by  wri- 
ters of  acknowledged  respectability,  are  to  be  credited, 
does  not  exist  in  any  part  of  the  Transatlantic  world 
so  generally,  or  in  so  high  a  degree,  as  in  this  coun- 
try. Whatever  faults  may  attach  to  the  male  inhab- 
itants of  the  United  States,  the  female  sex  merit  the 
highest  estimation  for  all  those  attributes,  which  ren- 
der women  deserving  and  lovely. 

Your  next  remarks  are  on  the  slavery  of  the  Blacks 
in  the  Southern  States:  a  subject,  which  you  have 

*  Lambert,  vol.  iii.  p.  105. 


Slavery  and  the  Slave- Trade.  81 

touched  upon  before,  and  in  the  mention  of  which 
you  must  be  confessed  to  be  unhappy:  I  do  not  mean 
in  censuring  the  African  slave  trade,  or  the  manner  in 
which  the  slaves  are  treated.*  To  these  subjects  I 
make  you  cordially  welcome.  They  are  the  proper 
themes  of  every  moralist:  and  no  severity,  with  which 
they  are  treated,  will  draw  from  me  a  single  animad- 
version. It  is  the  attribution  of  these  iniquities  to  the 
Americans,  with  an  intention  to  make  them  a  charac- 
teristical  disgrace  peculiar  to  them,  of  which  I  com- 
plain. Surely  when  you  wrote  this  passage  you  forgot 
how  lately  you  have  begun  to  wash  yourselves  clean 
from  this  smoke  of  the  bottomless  pit.  Please,  Sir,  to 
take  a  short  trip  to  Liverpool,  and  survey  the  hulks, 
which,  probably  in  great  numbers,  are  even  now  rott- 
ing in  the  docks  of  that  emporium  of  African  com- 
merce. Then  look  around  upon  the  numerous  splen- 
did buildings,  public  and  private.  Next,  exclaim, 
"These  ships  were  the  prisons,  in  which  hundreds  of 
thousands  of  miserable  Africans,  after  having  been 
kidnapped  by  avarice  and  cruelty,  or  taken  captive  in 
war,  kindled  by  the  same  insatiable  spirit,  and  torn 
for  ever  from  their  parents,  husbands,  wives,  and  chil- 
dren, were  transported  across  the  Atlantic,  to  bon- 
dage, and  misery,  interminable  but  by  death.  In 
these  floating  dungeons,  one  fourth,  one  third,  or  one 
half,  of  the  unhappy  victims  to  this  infernal  avarice 
perished  under  the  pressure  of  chains,  or  retted  in  the 
pestilential  steams,  embosoming,  as  a  vapour  bath,  the 
niches,  in  which  they  were  manacled.  This  work  of 

*  The  Southern  Planter,  who  receives  slaves  from  his  parent  by  inheritance, 
certainly  deserves  no  censure  for  holding  them.  He  has  no  agency  in  procuring 
them:  and  the  law  does  not  permit  him  to  set  them  free.  If  he  treats  them  vi^h 
humanity,  and  faithfully  endeavours  to  Christianize  them,  he  fulfils  his  duly,  so 
long  as  his  present  situation  continues. 


82  British  Slave-Trade. 

death  has  been  carried  on,  also,  a  century  and  a  half. 
What  must  have  been  the  waste  of  mankind,  which 
it  has  accomplished!  These  houses,  these  public  edi- 
fices, nay,  these  temples,  devoted  to  the  worship  of 
the  eternal  GOD,  with  all  their  splendour,  were  built 
of  human  bones,  and  cemented  with  human  blood. 
Rise,  Sodom  and  Gomorrah;  and  whiten  by  the  side 
of  men,  baptized  "in  the  name  of  the  FATHER,  and  of 
the  SON,  and  of  the  HOLY  GHOST."" 

Are  you  at  a  loss,  Sir,  concerning  the  justice  of  this 
representation?  The  records  of  your  own  Parliament 
will  furnish  you  with  abundant  and  terrible  evidence. 
Look  to  the  Report  of  the  Committee  of  the  House  of 
Commons.  Look  to  the  account,  written  by  the  ex- 
cellent Clarkson.  Look  to  the  speeches  of  Mr.  Wil- 
berforce,  the  glory  of  your  Parliament,  and  of  your 
country.  Read  the  speech,  which  he  delivered,  April 
2d,  1792.  You  will  there  read,  "Europeans  came  on 
the  coast  of  Africa,  and  hovered  like  vultures,  and 
like  vultures  lived  on  blood.  They  ensnared  at  times, 
and  at  times  by  force  took  away,  the  natives,  and 
sold  them  for  slaves."  Read  the  examples  of  villainy, 
recited  by  him  on  this  occasion,  too  long  to  be  quoted 
by  me,  and  too  dreadful  to  admit  of  a  comment.  He 
there  will  tell  you,  that  of  six  hundred  and  fifty 
slaves,  on  board  of  one  ship  in  the  year  1788,  one 
hundred  and  fifty-five  died;  of  four  hundred  and  five 
in  another,  two  hundred  died;  of  four  hundred  and 
fifty  in  another,  two  hundred  died:  of  four  hundred 
and  two  in  another,  seventy  three  died. 
•<  From  all  these  sources  learn,  also,  the  immense  ex- 
tent of  this  foul  business;  the  amazing  numbers  of 
imhappy  wretches,  who  perished  in  it;  the  amazing 
.numbers  who  lived,  only  to  be  made  miserable:  the 


British  Slave-  Trade .  8 3 

portentous  iniquity,  with  which  it  was  carried  on;  and 
the  vast  diilkulty,  with  which  it  was  broken  up.  You 
probably  were  present,  as  a  member  of  your  Parlia- 
ment, during  most,  if  not  the  whole,  of  the  long  strug- 
gle, made  by  many  of  your  Nobles,  of  high  rank; 
by  your  enlightened  Statesmen;  and  by  a  numerous 
train  of  your  Gentlemen;  not  the  fox-hunters,  men- 
tioned above,  but  men  of  education,  of  enlightened 
and  superiour  minds,  and  possessed  of  an  honourable 
character  among  their  countrymen;  against  the  glori- 
ous effort,  made  by  Mr.  Wilberforce  and  his  coadju- 
tors to  terminate  this  demoniacal  traffic. 

But,  Sir,  in  your  zeal  to  heap  scandal  upon  the 
Americans,  you  appear  to  have  forgotten,  that  you 
have  Colonies  of  your  own;  and  that  in  these  colo- 
nies slavery  exists  in  forms,  and  degrees,  incompara- 
bly more  horrid,  than  in  the  Southern  American 
States.  You  have  forgotten,  that  the  enormous  crimes 
perpetrated  in  this  system,  are  committed  by  native 
Britons  under  your  own  eye,  and  beneath  the  con- 
troul  of  your  own  Parliament.  I  shall  take  the  liberty 
to  refresh  your  memory  concerning  this  subject. 

"To  the  disgrace  of  Great  Britain. and  her  colo- 
nies," says  the  Christian  Observer  for  July  1811,  "the 
British  slave  code  is  more  severe  in  its  provisions 
than  perhaps  any  other.  Compared  with  it,  the  code? 
promulgated  by  the  Spanish  government,  is  freedom 
itself." 

Will  you  please,  Sir,  to  cast  your  eye  upon  the 
fifth  report  of  the  Directors  of  the  African  Institution? 
read  to  the  subscribers,  March  27th,  1811.  You  will 
there  find,  substantiated  by  evidence,  which  precludes 
all  doubt  concerning  the  facts,  that  a  Mr.  Huggins,  a 
distinguished  planter  in  Nevis,  "went  January  23d 


34  Slaver?/  in  British  Islands. 

1810,  attended  by  two  of  his  sons  on  horseback,  with 
upwards  of  twenty  slaves,  men  and  women,  in  the 
custody  of  drivers,  through  the  streets  of  Charlestown 
to  the  market  place,  and  there  proceeded  to  indulge 
his  cruelty  to  the  utmost,  during  more  than  two 
hours  in  the  face  of  day,  and  in  the  sight  and  hearing, 
not  only  of  free  persons,  but  of  magistrates,  who  of- 
fered him  no  interruption." 

To  one  negro  man  he  gave,  by  the  hands  of  expert 
drivers,  lashes  no  less  than  -  .  365; 

To  a  second,  -     115; 

To  a  third,  -  165; 

To  a  fourth,  -     252; 

To  a  fifth,  212; 

To  a  sixth,  -  -181; 

To  a  seventh,  -  187; 

To  a  woman,  -      110; 

To  a  second,  58; 

To  a  third,  -  -     97; 

To  a  fourth,  212; 

To  a  fifth,        -  291; 

To  a  sixth,  83; 

To  a  seventh,  89; 

The  number  of  victims,  thus  specified,  was  14.  The 
seven  men  received  1477  lashes;  or  211  each,  at  an 
average.  The  seven  women  received  940,  or  134 
each.  All  these  were  inflicted  with  a  cail-whip.  The 
whole  number  of  lashes  was  2417;  inflicted  by  expert 
drivers;  within  the  compass  of  somewhat  more  than 
two  hours;  at  the  command,  and  under  the  eye,  of 
this  devil  in  human  shape,  and  of  his  two  sons,  whom 
he  brought  to  be  witnesses  of  their  father's  character. 
Even  this  is  not  all:  "for  he  administered,"  says  the 


Huggins  and  Hodge.  85 

Report,  "to  various  other  woftien  and  men,  various 
other  cruel  measures  of  the  same  punishment,  at  the 
same  time."  One  of  these  miserable  sufferers  died, 
soon  after,  of  this  merciless  treatment. 

Nor  is  this  all.  There  were  at  this  time  seven  mag- 
istrates in  Charlestotvn.  Two  of  them,  the  Reverend 
William  Green,  and  the  Reverend  Samuel  Lions, 
each  holding  two  livings  in  the  Island,  were  within 
hearing  of  the  lash;  and  must  have  known  of  the  cruel 
and  illegal  cause;  yet  did  not  interpose.  The  same 
was  true  of  Dr.  Cassin,  a  surgeon  in  that  Island,  who 
was  present  at  a  part  of  this  scene,  and  after  having 
counted  236  lashes,  given  to  one  negro,  coolly  said  he 
thought  it  was  enough.  Another  Magistrate,  Mr.  Ed- 
ward Huggins  jun.  looked  on,  the  greatest;  part  of 
the  time. 

If  you  will  read  a  little  farther,  you  will  find,  that 
Mr.  Huggins,  the  master,  was  acquitted  by  a  jury,  al- 
though the  facts  were  proved  beyond  a  doubt,  so  as 
not  to  be  disputed,  and  although  the  slaves  had  been 
guilty  of  no  offence,  of  any  importance.  In  addition  to 
this,  the  printer  of  the  Gazette  in  St.  Christopher's 
was  prosecuted  by  him  for  inserting  in  his  paper  the 
minutes  concerning  this  subject,  sent  to  him  by  order 
of  the  Assembly;  was  found  guilty  of  publishing  a  li- 
bel, issued  by  the  House  of  the  Assembly  of  Nevis, 
and  was  sentenced  to  a  month's  imprisonment,  and  to 
find  bail,  to  keep  the  peace  for  three  years 

In  the  same  Report  you  will  find  an  account  of  a 
man,  that  is  a  human  body  animated  by  a  demon;  a 
planter  of  Tortola,  named  Hodge.  This  infernal 
agent  whipped  twelve  of  his  slaves  so,  that  they  died. 
Down  the  throats  of  two  females  he  poured  a  quanti- 
ty of  boiling  water.  A  child  he  ordered  to  be  dipped 
12 


80  Hodge  and  Huggins. 

in  a  copper  of  boiling  liquor.  Frequently  he  caused 
the  children  on  his  estate  to  be  taken  up  by  the  heels, 
and  dipped  into  tubs  of  water  with  their  heads  down- 
wards, and  kept  there  till  they  were  stifled;  then  to  be 
taken  out.  and  suffered  to  recover  and  breathe:  when 
they  were  again  treated  in  the  same  manner:  and  so 
repeatedly,  until  they  have  been  seen  to  stagger,  and 
fall  On  this  he  has  ordered  them  to  be  taken  up  and 
suspended  to  a  tree  by  their  hands  tied  together,  and  in 
this  situation  cart-whipped.  Among  others,  a  Mulat- 
to child,  reputed  his  own,  named  Bella,  was  repeated- 
ly whipped  by  his  order:  and  he  was  also  seen  repeat- 
edly to  strike  the  child  with  a  stick  on  the  head,  so  as 
to  break  her  head. 

I  presume,  Sir,  you  ape  tired  of  this  tale.  So  am  I. 
I  will  only  add,  that,  to  the  unspeakable  joy  of  every 
honest  man,  who  has  heard,  or  who  ever  will  hear  of  it? 
this  wretch,  after  many  obstacles  had  been  thrown  in- 
to the  way  of  justice,  was  at  last  convicted,  and  hang- 
ed. Amen,  and  Amen. 

I  hope,  Sir,  we  shall  never  more  hear  any  compart 
son  made  between  your  slave  holders  and  ours.  Stig- 
matize both  as  severely  as  you  please:  but  let  your 
journalists,  and  your  travellers,  when  they  are  brand- 
ing ours  with  infamy,  remember  Hodge  and  Hug- 
gins. 

Permit  me,  at  the  end  of  this  recital,  to  return  my 
most   cordial  thanks  to  the  members  of  the  African 
Institution  for  their   noble  effort  in  behalf  of  these 
abused  people.     The  hand  of  God  be  with  them,  and 
make  their  way  prosperous. 

Your  next  topic  of  scandal  is  the  state  of  those, 
whom  you  call  Redemptioners',  persons,  who,  wishing 
to  come  to  America,  and  not  having  sufficient  proper- 


Irish  Redemptioners.  S7 

ty  to  pay  their  passage,  agree  with  the  captain  of  the 
ship  to  become  bound,  as  servants,  for  such  a  period 
of  time  as  that  their  service  will  amount  to  the  sum, 
which  they  have  engaged  to  pay.  These  men  are 
usually,  though  not  always,  inhabitants  of  Ireland. 
If  you  really  think  their  case  a  hard  one,  why  do  you 
not  prohibit  it  by  your  laws?  Nothing  is  easier. 
Make  the  transaction  penal  on  the  part  of  the  cap- 
tains. The  Americans  will  thank  you  for  such  a  law. 
Whatever  you  may  think,  Sir,  we  are  not  gratified  by 
the  transportation  of  these  people  into  our  country. 

But,  Sir,  you  totally  mistake  the  facts  in  your  ap- 
prehensions concerning  the  condition  of  these  people 
in  America.  They  are  neither  more  nor  less  than 
hired  men  and  women;  no  more  slaves;  no  more  op- 
pressed; nor  in  any  respect  treated  with  any  more  un- 
kindness.  In  all  respects  they  are  as  well  situated  as 
hired  Americans;  and  have  as  little  reason  to  com- 
plain of  their  circumstances,  as  any  hired  people  in 
the  world.  Believe  me,  Sir,  your  lamentations  over 
them  are  lost.  They  would  only  laugh  at  you  for 
your  pains. 

Another  thing,  which  you  attribute  to  us,  is  ihe 
use  of  strong  drink.  From  Mr.  Lambert  you  take 
an  account,  given  to  him  by  Mr.  Bradley,  (of  the 
American  Senate,)  which  he  applied  exclusively  to  the 
Virginians;  and  with  the  customary  candour  of  your 
journalists,  and  travellers,  when  speaking  of  America, 
you  apply  it  t®  the  whole  people  of  the  United  States. 
Had  Mr.  Lambert  known  Mr.  Bradley,  he  would 
have  perceived,  that  the  whole  story  was  no  more  than 
a  piece  of  characteristical  sport,  intended  merely  to 
amuse  his  fellow  travellers, 


88  Consumption  of  Ardent  Spirits. 

But  I  readily  acknowledge,  that  far  more  spirit^ 
both  ferine  ted  and  distilled,  are  drunk  in  this  coun- 
try than  any  man  can  justify.  I  hesitate  not  to  pro- 
nounce the  practice,  in  the  degree  in  which  it  exists, 
both  shameful  and  sinful.  Yet  nothing  is  more  un- 
just than  your  assertion,  that  "the  love  of  ardent  spirits 
prevails  pretty  generally  throughout  all  classes,*7  or, 
(as  you  prefer  the  language,)  "throughout  the  whole 
unclassified,  and  indivisible  community. "  The  inhab- 
itants of  New  England,  for  example,  are,  I  strongly 
suspect,  much  more  temperate  than  those  of  Old  Eng- 
land; at  least  than  those  who  come  thence  to  America. 
I  have  seen  many  representations  on  this  subject,  made 
by  your  own  countrymen;  and  have  heard  many, 
made  by  mine.  These  could  not  be  made  with  truth 
concerning  the  inhabitants  of  New  England.  But  we 
need  not  have  recourse  to  these,  in  order  to  settle  this 
point  to  our  mutual  satisfaction.  I  will  barely  turn 
your  attention  to  the  "Stranger's  Guide  through  Lon- 
don" Here  you  will  find,  consumed  annually  in  that 
Metropolis,  of  Spirituous  Liquors, 

Gallons  11,146,782; 
Wine,  -  -  Tons,  32,000,  or 

Gallons,  8,064,000; 
Ale  and  Porter,  Bis.  1,113,500,  or 

Gallons,  35,632,000 

The  number  of  inhabitants  in  London,  may,  in 
round  i  umbers,  be  estimated  at  1,000,000.  Every 
one  of  these,  if  we  average  the  quantity  consumed, 
drinks  more  than  eleven  gallons  of  Spirits,  more  than 
eight  of  Wine,and  more  than  thirty  five  of  Ale  and 
Porter.  More  than  half  of  this  number  is,  however,  com* 
posed  of  children,  and  of  such  women  as  drink  none. 
Accordingly,  the  estimate  to  each  individual  of  the  re- 


Consumption  of  Ardent  Spirits.  89 

tnaining  500000,  is  twenty  two  gallons  of  Spirits, 
sixteen  of  Wine,  and  seventy  of  Ale  and  Porter;  or 
one  hundred  and  eight  gallons  of  strong  drink  to  eve*- 
ry  individual. 

The  whole  quantity  of  ardent  Spirits,  supposed  by 
the  highest  estimate  to  be  imported  into  this  country, 
or  manufactured  by  its  inhabitants,  was,  in  the  year 
1810,  33,000,000  of  gallons.  The  number  of  inhab- 
itants was,  according  to  the  census  of  the  same  year, 
7,28^,903.  Dropping  the  fraction,  and  stating  the 
number  of  inhabitants  at  seven  millions,  the  number 
of  gallons,  consumed  by  each  individual,  will,  at  an 
average  be  rather  more  than  four  and  a  half;  or, 
(as  half  drink  no  ardent  spirits,)  rather  more 
than  nine  to  each  individual  in  the  remaining 
half.  The  quantity  of  Wine,  consumed  in  this 
country,  is  not  so  much  as  a  fourth  of  the  quanti- 
ty of  ardent  Spirits;  and  that  of  Ale  and  Porter  is  tri- 
fling in  its  amount.  Two  gallons  to  an  individual,  of 
both,  will  be  an  ample  allowance.  We  have,  then, 
rather  more  than  eleven  gailons  of  strong  drink  to, 
each  individual  in  the  United  States;  and  108  gallons 
to  each  Londoner:  viz.  nine  gallons  of  ardent  Spirits 
to  the  American,  and  twenty  two  to  the  Londoner; 
one  gallon  and  a  half  of  Wine  to  the  American,  and 
sixteen  to  the  Londoner;  half  of  a  gallon  of  Ale  and 
Porter  to  the  American,  and  seventy  to  the  Londoner. 

At  the  same  time  it  is  to  be  remembered,  that  one 
third  of  the  inhabitants  of  this  country  have  no  othei' 
drink  beside  ardent  spirits,  and  water;  and,  therefore, 
are  justified  to  some  extent  in  drinking  spirits.  The 
people  of  the  Northern  States  drink  cider,  as  their 
common  beverage;  but  you  need  not  be  informed, 
that  cider  is  a  weak  liquor,  compared  with  Ale  01 
Porter. 


00  (Souging. 

I  presume,  Sir,  we  shall  hereafter  hear  no  more  eoiv 
eerning  the  intemperance  of  the  Americans  from  an 
Englishman.  Yet  I  acknowledge,  that  there  is  much 
intemperance  in  this  country;  and  that  it  deserves  se- 
vere reprobation,  and  demands  the  vigorous  resistance, 
as  well  as  discountenance,  of  all  good  men.  But 
nothing  is  more  untrue  than  your  assertion,  that  "the 
love  of  ardent  spirits  prevails  pretty  generally  through 
all  classes."  TSie  farmers  and  mechanics  of  this 
country,  and  the  gentlemen,  (for  such,  permit  me 
to  say,  there  are  in  great  numbers;  as  were  you  to  re- 
side here  a  little  time,  you  would  be  obliged  to  con- 
fess;) are  as  sober  and  temperate  a  body  of  people,  as 
can  be  found  in  the  world,  unless  perhaps  in  France, 
and  possibly  in  some  of  the  countries  lying  under  a 
hot  climate.  You  will  remember,  that  I  am  here 
speaking  of  the  Northern  States.  Of  the  temperance, 
or  intemperance,  of  the  others  I  have  very  little 
knowledge,  except  what  is  derived  from  the  estimate 
above. 

After  your  eloquent  account  of  our  intemperance, 
you  summon  up  again  the  story  of  Gouging.  Goug- 
ing is  as  infamous  and  abominable  a  practice,  as  even 
you  can  paint  it;  and  you  have  my  consent  to  attack 
it  as  often,  and  as  severely,  as  you  please.  So  far  as 
J  know,  it  has  never  crossed  the  Potowmac.  As  Ma- 
ryland  is  a  slave  State  I  will,  for  the  present,  throw  it 
out  of  the  computation.  From  Maryland  northward, 
where,  it  is  presumed,  not  an  instance  of  gouging  has 
happened  since  the  first  colonization  of  this  country, 
the  free  population  amounts  to  3,758,851.  South  of 
this  line  the  same  population  amounts  to  2,258,430, 
Let  those,  who  are  included  in  the  latter  sum,  cleanse 
their  hands  from  the  guilt  and  disgrace  of  this  prac- 


Bull- Baiting.  91 

tice,  as  well  as  they  can.  Among  those,  included  in 
the  former  sum,  it  is  unknown:  and  therefore,  the  au- 
thority of  WdA  and  Gen.  Bradley  notwithstanding, 
"gouging,  kicking,  and  biting,  are"  not  "allowed  in 
all  our  fights" 

Of  the  number  of  our  fights  I  will  leave  you  to 
judge,  when  I  have  informed  you,  that  I  am  advanc- 
ed far  in  life,  and  that  I  have  travelled  through  a  con- 
siderable part  of  the  Northern  States,  in  both  the  old 
and  new  settlements,  in  all  directions,  and  that  very 
extensively;  that  I  began  this  course  at  an  early  peri- 
od of  life,  and  that  I  have  mixed  freely,  from  the  be- 
ginning, with  men  of  most  descriptions;  and  yet  never 
saw  but  one  quarrel  between  two  adult  individuals., 
which  came  to  blows,  during  the  whole  progress  of 
my  life.  Compare  with  this  fact,  Sir,  your  rencoun- 
ters between  Crib  and  Molyneaux,  Mendoza  and  Hum- 
phrey, arid  a  long  train  of  other  champions  of  the  fist; 
with  your  Gentlemen,  Nobles,  and  Princes,  assembled 
to  look  on.  Compare  it  with  your  bull-baiting;  and 
remember,  if  you  please,  the  debate  on  this  subject  in 
your  Parliament;  and  the  speech  of  Mr.  Windham 
on  this  occasion.  Remember  also  the  decision  of  that 
august  Body,  sanctioning  a  practice,  at  which  both 
nature  and  decency  revolt. 

Let  me  inform  you,  Sir,  that  there  never  was  a 
bull-baiting  in  this  country;*  and  that  the  inhabitants 
regard  the  practice  itself,  the  cold-blooded  eloquence 
of  Mr.  Windham,  and  the  barbarous  decision  of  your 
Parliament  with  indignation  and  horror. 

*  Since  these  Remarks  were  finished,  I  have  been  informed,  that  a  consider?. 
We  number  of  years  since,  there  was  a  tall-baiting  in  AVrp  York,  and  anetii<?* 
Pennsylvania, 


92  British  Manufacturers. 

I  could  pursue  this  subject,  Sir,  and  several  others 
connected  with  it,  much  farther;  but  it  is  unnecessa- 
ry. I  will,  therefore,  now  proceed  to  take  another 
view  of  the  general  one  of  Morals  and  Manners; 
and  in  doing  this,  will  exhibit  your  Morals  and  Man- 
ners, as  you  yourselves  have  presented  them  to  the 
world. 

The  gentleman,  whose  Journal  I  have  several  times 
quoted,  speaking  of  Manchester,  says,  "The  wages  of 
the  labouring  manufacturers  are  high  at  present;  but  so 
few  of  them  lead  sober  and  frugal  lives,  that  they  are 
generally  mere  dependents  on  daily  labour.  Most  of 
the  men  are  said  to  be  drunkards,  and  the  women  dis- 
solute"* 

Espriella,  speaking  of  Manchester,  says,  "These 
children,  then,  said  I,  have  no  time  to  receive  instruc- 
tion. That,  Sir,  he  replied,  is  the  evil,  which  we  have 
found.  Girls  are  employed  here  from  the  age  you 
see  them,  till  they  marry;  and  then  they  know  noth- 
ing about  domestic  work,  not  even  how  to  mend  a 
stocking,  or  boil  a  potatoe.  But  we  are  remedying 
this  now;  and  send  the  children  to  school  for  an  hour 
after  they  are  done  work.  I  asked  if  so  much  con- 
finement did  not  injure  their  health.  "No,"  he  repli- 
ed; "they  are  as  healthy,  as  any  children  in  the  world 
could  be."  To  be  sure,  many  of  them,  as  they  grew 
up,  went  off  in  consumptions;  but  consumption  was 
the  disease  of  the  English.  I  ventured  to  inquire  af- 
terwards concerning  the  morals  of  the  people,  who 
were  trained  up  in  this  monstrous  manner;  and  found 
what  was  to  be  expected,  that  in  consequence  of  herd- 
ing together  such  numbers  of  both  sexes,  who  were 

*  Sitt,  Journal.  v«l  j. 


British  Manufacturers.  93 

utterly  uninstructed  in  the  commonest  principles  of 
religion  and  morality,  they  were  as  debauched  and 
profligate,  as  human  beings,  under  the  influence  of 
such  circumstances,  must  inevitably  be;  the  men 
drunken,  the  women  dissolute;  that,  however  high 
the  wages  they  earned,  they  were  too  improvident 
ever  to  lay  by  for  a  time  of  need;  and  that,  though 
the  parish  was  not  at  the  expense  of  maintaining  them 
when  children,  rt  had  to  provide  for  them  in  diseases, 
induced  by  their  mode  of  life,  and  in  premature  de- 
bility and  old  age.  The  poor  rates  were  oppressively 
high,  and  the  hospitals  and  work  houses  always  full 
and  overflowing.  I  inquired  how  many  persons  were 
employed  in  the  manufactory;  and  was  told,  children 
and  all,  about  two  hundred.  What  was  the  firm  of 
the  house? — There  were  two  partners.  So,  thought 
I — a  hundred  to  one."* 

The  same  writer,  speaking  of  Birmingham,  says, 
"Our  earth  was  designed  to  be  a  seminary  for  young 
angels:  but  the  devil  has  certainly  fixed  upon  this  spot 
Jor  his  own  nursery  garden  and  hot- house." 

"When  we  look  at  gold,  we  do  not  think  of  the 
poor  slaves,  who  dug  it  from  the  caverns  of  the  earth; 
but  I  shall  never  think  of  the  wealth  of  England, 
without  remembering  that  I  have  been  in  the  mines. 
Not  that  the  labourers  repine  at  their  lot;  it  is  not  the 
least  evil  of  the  system,  that  they  are  perfectly  well 
satisfied  to  be  poisoned,  soul  and  body.  Foresight  is 
not  a  human  instinct:  the  more  unwholesome  the  em- 
ployment,  the  higher  of  course  are  the  wages,  paid  to 
the  workmen;  and,  incredible  as  it  may  seem,  a  tri- 
fling addition  to  their  weekly  pay  makes  these  short- 

*  Esp.  Letter  38. 

13 


94  British  Manufacturers. 

sighted  wretches  contend  for  work,  which  they  cer- 
tainly know  will,  in  a  very  few  years,  produce  disease 
and  death,  or  cripple  them  for  the  remainder  of  their 
existence," 

"I  cannot  pretend  to  say,  what  is  the  consumption, 
here,  of  the  two  legged  beasts  of  labour;  commerce 
sends  in  no  returns  of  its  'killed  and  wounded.  Nei- 
ther can  I  say,  that  the  people  look  sickly,  having 
seen  no  other  complexion  in  the  place,  than  what  is 
composed  of  oil  and  dust,  smoke  dried.  Every  man, 
whom  I  met,  stinks  of  train  oil  and  emery.  Some  I 
have  seen  with  red  eyes  and  green  hair;  the  eyes  af- 
fected by  the  fires  to  which  they  are  exposed,  and  the 
hair  turned  green  by  the  brass-works.  You  would 
not,  however,  discover  any  other  resemblance  to  a 
triton  in  them,  for  water  is  an  element,  with  the  use 
of  which,  except  to  supply  steam  engines,  they  seem 
to  be  unacquainted." 

uThe  noise  of  Birmingham  is  beyond  description. 
The  hammers  vSeem  never  to  be  at  rest.  The  filth  is 
sickening.  Filthy  as  some  of  our  own  old  towns  may 
be,  their  dirt  is  inoffensive:  it  lies  in  heaps,  which  an- 
noy none,  but  those  who  walk  within  the  little  reach 
of  their  effluvia.  But  here  it  is  active,  and  moving;  a 
living  principle  of  mischief  which  fills  the  whole  at- 
mosphere, and  penetrates  every  where;  spotting  and 
staining  every  thing,  and  getting  into  the  pores  and 
nostrils.  I  feel  as  if  my  throat  wanted  sweeping,  like 
an  English  chimney." 

Again.  "A  regular  branch  of  trade  here,  is  the 
manufacture  of  guns  for  the  African  market.  They 
are  made  for  about  a  dollar  and  a  half:  the  barrel  is 
filled  with  water;  and,  if  the  water  does  not  come 
through,  it  is  thought  proof  sufficient:  of  course  they' 


British  Manufacturers.  95 

burst,  when  fired,  and  mangle  the  wretched  negro, 
who  has  purchased  them  upon  the  credit  of  English 
faith,  and  received  them,  most  probably,  as  the  price 
of  human  flesh!  No  secret  is  made  of  this  abom- 
inable trade;  yet  the  government  never  interferes;  and 
the  persons  concerned  in  it  are  not  marked,  and  shun- 
ned as  infamous." 

"In  some  parts  of  Italy  the  criminal,  who  can  prove 
himself  the  best  workman  at  any  business,  is  favour- 
ed, infavorem  artis,  unless  his  crime  has  been  coiiv 
ing:  a  useful  sort  of  benefit  of  clergy.  If  ingenuity 
were  admitted  as  an  excuse  for  guilt  in  this  country, 
the  Birmingham  rogues  might  defy  the  gallows. 
Even  as  it  is,  they  set  justice  at  defiance,  and  carry  on 
the  most  illegal  practices  almost  with  impunity.  Some 
spoons,  which  had  been  stolen  here,  were  traced  im- 
mediately to  the  receiver's  house:  "I  know  what  you 
are  come  for,"  said  he  to  the  persons,  who  entered  the 
room  in  search  of  them;  "you  are  come  for  the 
spoons:"  and  he  tossed  over  the  crucible  into  the  fire, 
because  they  were  not  entirely  melted.  The  officers 
of  justice  had  received  intelligence  of  a  gang  of  coin- 
ers; the  building,  to  which  they  were  directed,  stood 
within  a  court-yard;  and,  when  they  reached  it.  they 
found,  that  the  only  door  was  on  the  upper  story,  and 
could  not  be  reached  without  a  ladder.  A  ladder  was 
procured:  it  was  then  sometime  before  the  door  could 
be  forced;  and  they  heard  the  people  within  mocking 
them  all  this  while.  When  at  last  they  effected  their 
entrance,  the  coiners  pointed  to  a  furnace,  in  which 
all  the  dies,  and  whatever  else  could  criminate  them, 
had  been  consumed  during  this  delay.  The  coins  of 
any  country,  with  which  England  carries  on  any  in- 
tercourse, whether  in  Europe,  Asia,  or  America,,  are 


96  British  Manufacturers. 

counterfeited  here,  and  exported.  An  inexhaustible 
supply  of  half  pence  was  made  for  home  consump- 
tion, till  the  new  coinage  put  a  stop  to  this  manufac- 
tory: it  was  the  common  practice  of  the  dealers  in 
this  article  to  fry  a  pan  full  every  night  after  supper 
for  the  next  day's  delivery,  thus  darkening,  to  make 
them  look  as  if  they  had  been  in  circulation." 

"Assignats  were  forged  here  during  the  late  war; 
but  this  is  less  to  be  imputed  to  the  Birmingham  spec- 
ulators than  to  those  wise  politicians,  who  devised  so 
many  wise  means  of  ruining  France.  The  forgery 
of  their  own  bank  notes  is  carried  on  with  systematic 
precautions,  which  will  surprise  you.  Information  of 
a  set  of  forgers  had  been  obtained,  and  the  officers  en- 
tered the  house:  they  found  no  person  on  any  of  the 
lower  floors;  but  when  they  reached  the  garret,  one 
man  was  at  work  upon  the  plates  in  the  farthest 
room,  who  could  see  them  as  soon  as  they  had  as- 
cended the  stairs.  Immediately  he  opened  a  trap- 
door, and  descended  to  the  floor  below;  before  they 
could  reach  the  spot  to  follow  him,  he  had  opened  the 
second,  and  the  descent  was  impracticable  for  them, 
on  account  of  its  depth:  there  they  stood,  and  beheld 
him  drop  from  floor  to  floor,  till  he  reached  the  cel- 
lar, and  effected  his  escape  by  a  subterraneous  pas- 
sage." 

"You  may  well  imagine  what  such  people  as  these 
would  be  in  times  of  popular  commotion.  It  was  ex- 
emplified in  1791.  Their  fury,  by  good  luck,  was  in 
favour  of  the  Government;  they  set  fire  to  all  the 
houses  of  all  the  opulent  Dissenters,  whom  they  sus- 
pected of  disaffection,  and  searched  every  where  for 
the  heresiarch  Priestley,  carrying  a  spit  about,  on 
which  they  intended  to  roast  him  alive.  Happily  for 


Colquhoun's  Police  of  London.  97 

himself,  and  for  the  national  character,  he  had  taken 
an  alarm,  and  withdrawn  in  time."* 

These  observations,  Sir,  are  said  to  have  been  made 
by  a  gentleman,  reported,  generally,  to  be  one  of  the 
writers  in  the  Quarterly  Review:  their  truth,  therefore, 
will  hardly  be  disputed  by  you. 

I  might  pursue  the  same  course  of  illustration 
through  many  other  writers,  and  extend  my  quota- 
tions to  the  size  of  a  volume;  but  the  tale  would  be 
too  tedious  to  be  read,  as  well  as  too  burdensome  to 
be  written.  I  will,  therefore,  hasten  it  to  a  conclu- 
sion. 

In  Colquhoutfs  Police  of  London,  a  summary  is 
given  to  the  world  of  the  sorts  of  villainy,  regularly 
carried  on  in  the  Capital  of  the  British  Empire;  the 
boast,  as  well  as  the  pride,  of  every  Englishman. 
This  summary,  as  I,  although  an  American,  have 
providentially  had  the  means  of  knowing,  was  the  re- 
sult of  the  best  information,  which  the  nature  of  the 
case  will  admit;  better,  probably,  than  ever  was  pos- 
sessed by  any  other  man;  and  is  therefore  to  be  re- 
garded as  authentic.  Let  me  invite  you  to  look  at 
the  following  table,  copied  from  this  very  intelligent 
Work.  It  contains  the  sorts  of  villains,  which,  like 
spirits  from  the  nether  world,  haunt  that  great  city, 
making  it  a  second  Pand&monium;  and  annexes  to 
each  sort  the  number  of  wretches  which  it  contains. 

1.  Professed  thieves,  burglars,  highway  rob- 
bers, pickpockets,  and  river-pirates,  2,000 

2.  Professed  receivers  of  stolen  goods,  60 
o.  Coiners,  &c.  of  base  money,                          3,000 

Carried  forward,    5,060 

*  Esp.  Letter  36. 


98  Villains  in  the  British  Metropolis. 

Brought  forward,    5,060 

4.  Thieves,  living  partly  by  depredation,  and 
partly  by  their  own  labour,  8,000 

5.  River  pilferers,  2,500 

6.  Itinerant  Jews,  employed  in  tempting  oth- 
ers to  steal,  2,000 

7.  Receivers  of  stolen  goods  from  petty  pil- 
ferers, 4,000 

8.  Suspicious  characters,  who  live  partly  by 
pilfering  and  passing  base  money,  1,000 

9.  Menials,  who  defraud  their  employers  in  a 
little  way,  so  as  generally  to  elude  detec- 
tion, estimated  at  3,500 

10.  Swindlers,  cheats,  and  low  gamblers,  liv- 
ing chiefly  by  fraudulent  transactions  in 

the  lottery,  7,440 

14.  Other  classes  of  cheats,  not  included  in 

the  above,  1,000 

12.  Dissolute    publicans,    who    make    their 
houses  rendezvous  for  thieves,  swindlers, 

and  dealers  in  base  money,  1,000 

13.  Inferior  officers  in  the  Customs  and  Ex- 
cise, including  supernumeraries  and  glut- 
men,  sharing  the  pillage,  and  frauds,  com- 
mitted on  the  revenue,  estimated  at  1,00.0 

|4.  Persons  keeping  chandlers'  shops  for  the 
sale  of  provisions  to  the  poor,  and  cheating 
their  customers  by  false  weights,  35500 

15.  Suspicious  servants  out  of  place,  princi- 
pally from  ill-behaviour  and  loss  of  charac- 
ter, about  10,000 

Carried  forward,    50,000 


Villains  in  the  British  Metropolis.  99 

Brought  forward,    50,000 

16.  Black-legs,  or  proselytes  to  gaming,  as  a 

trade,  2,000 

17.  Spendthrifts,  and  other  profligate  men, 
seducing  others  to  intemperance,  lewdness, 
debauchery,   gambling,    and   excess,   esti- 
mated at  3,000 

18.  Foreigners,  who  live  chiefly  by  gambling,     5,000 

19.  Bawds,  who  keep  houses  of  ill-fame,  &c.       2,000 

20.  Females,  who  support  themselves  chiefly, 

or  wholly,  by  prostitution,*  50,000 

£1.  Dishonest  strangers,  out  of  employment,  1,000 

22.  Strolling  minstrels,  ballad- singers,  show- 
men, trumpeters,  and  gypsies,  1,500 

23.  Grubbers,  and  a  long  train  of  other  low 
pilferers,  2,000 

24.  Common  beggars,  3,000 

Total,     119,500 

"This  shocking  catalogue,"  says  the  intelligent  mag- 
istrate, "does  not  include  every  fraud  and  dishonesty 
which  is  practised."  Yet  here,  Sir,  is  a  list,  which 
holds  out  more  than  one  ninth  of  the  population  of 
your  great  city,  as  living  by  fraud,  villainy,  and  pollu- 
tion. What  must  be  your  feelings,  Sir,  when  walk- 
ing through  the  streets  of  London,  to  know  that  one 
person,  out  of  every  nine  whom  you  meet,  is  of  this 
character? 

In  the  year,  from  September  1790,  to  September 
1791,  including  445  prisoners  delivered  over  by  the 
Sheriffs  of  the  preceding  year,  1,533  were  tried  at  the 

*  This  is  worse,  Sir,  than  voting. 


100         Villains  in  the  British  Metropolis. 

Old  Bailey.     Of  these,  711  were  acquitted,  and  828 
condemned. 

Of  these  there  were 
1U  for  Murders, 
4        Arson, 
10         Forgeries, 
9        Dealing  in,  and  uttering,  base  money, 

1  Sodomy, 

2  Piracies, 
4        Rapes, 

642  Grand  Larcenies, 

32  Stealing  privately  from  persons, 

13  Shop- lifting,  under  five  shillings, 

16  Ripping  and  stealing  Lead, 

12  Stealing  Pewter  Pots, 

22  Stealing  from  furnished  Lodgings, 

1  Stealing  Letters, 

1  Stealing  a  Child, 

22  Receiving  stolen  goods, 

7  Bigamy, 

6  Perjuries, 

6  Conspiracies, 

3  Fraudulent  Bankrupts, 
15  Frauds, 

9  Misdemeanours, 

1  Assaulting,  and  cutting  Clothes, 

1  Smuggling, 

7  Obstructing  Revenue  Officers, 

1        Wounding  a  Horse  maliciously, 
38        Assaults. 

895    Total. 

Of  these,  thirty-two  were  executed:  more,  I  sus- 
pect, than  have  been  executed  for  the  same  crimes  in 


Public  Crimes.  101 

New  England  since  the  first  Colonists  landed  at  Ply- 
mouth. Yet  Mr.  Colquhoun  says,  that  this  melan- 
choly catalogue  does  not  contain  above  one  tenth  part 
of  the  offences,  which  were  actually  committed;  so 
that  the  real  number  of  high  crimes,  actually  perpe- 
trated, was  at  least  10,880,  Yet  London  contains  but 
a  million  of  people;  and  New  England,  a  million  and 
a  half.  A  capital  conviction  is,  here,  a  solitary  thing; 
existing  but  once  in  a  considerable  series  of  years. 

You  may  possibly  think,  that  the  execution  of  our 
laws  is  lax.  You  say  this  concerning  the  United  States 
at  large:  but  it  is  not  true  concerning  New  England. 
The  disadvantage  lies  wholly  on  your  side.  A  centu- 
ry  to  come  will  hardly  furnish  such  a  list  of  criminals 
in  New  England,  as  that  which  is  here  disclosed.  A 
single  fact  will  show  you  the  character  of  its  inhab- 
itants, as  to  their  honesty.  It  is  believed,  that  more 
than  one  half  of  the  families  ordinarily  go  to  bed  with- 
out bolting,  or  locking,  their  doors.  Of  what  other 
country  can  this  be  said? 

I  have  observed,  that  executions  are  here  solitary 
events.  Let  me  add,  that  a  great  proportion  of  the 
miserable  objects,  who  suffer  capitally,  are  foreigners. 

You  ridicule  Inchiquin  for  saying,  that  "there  is  no 
populace  in  the  United  States,  no  Patrician,  no  Ple- 
beian, no  third  or  middle  class."  I  need  not  inform 
you,  although  you  seem  to  be  willingly  ignorant  of  it, 
that  in  every  civilized  country  there  must  of  necessity 
be  persons,  and  families,  distinguished  for  superiority  of 
character,  wealth,  intelligence,  refinement,  station,  and 
influence.  I  presume,  that  Inchiquin  intended  noth- 
ing more,  than  that  we  had  no  Nobles  and  no  Peas* 
antry.  With  his  meaning,  however,  I  have  no  con- 
cern,; but,  understood  in  this  sense,  the  declaration  is 
14 


102      Condition  of  the  People  in  New  England. 

substantially  true.  In  our  larger  towns  we  have  a 
number  of  people,  who  are  styled  day-labourers;  and 
a  very  small  number  of  these  are  thinly  dispersed 
throughout  the  country;  but  the  whole  amount  is 
inconsiderable.  The  public  paupers  in  our  country 
towns  do  not,  I  am  persuaded,  exceed  one  in  three 
hundred  of  the  inhabitants.  In  a  number  of  these 
towns  there  has  never  been  an  individual  of  this  class. 
Every  man,  with  the  exception  of  this  inconsiderable 
number,  and  a  very  few  others,  holds  his  lands  in  fee- 
simple.  Tenants  are  almost  unknown.  The  people 
are,  as  a  body,  what  you  call  yeomanry;  possessing 
estates,  on  which  they  live  in  the  enjoyment  of  com- 
petence, and  independence.  These  circumstances  are 
announced  in  the  Scriptures  as  the  safest,  and  happiest? 
for  man:  and  with  their  testimony  that  of  the  ancient 
Philosophers  and  poets,  and  that  of  the  wise  men  in 
your  own  Island,  perfectly  coincide.  New  England 
furnishes  no  reason  to  distrust  its  truth. 

Lands  are  here  obtained  with  comparative  ease;  and 
subsistence,  both  agreeable  and  abundant,  is  within 
the  reach  of  every  person  possessing  health  and  hon- 
esty, and  even  a  moderate  share  of  industry  and  econ- 
omy. Very  few  therefore  are  poor;  and  even  those, 
ivho  are  styled  such,  are  rich,  in  comparison  with  the 
poor  of  Europe.  Rarely  are  they  without  tea  or  cof- 
fee for  their  breakfast,  or  without  animal  food,  once? 
twice,  or  thrice  every  day. 

At  the  same  time,  all  these  people  can  read,  and 
write,  and  keep  accompts-  There  is  scarcely  a  beg- 
gar, or  a  black,  who  cannot.  In  this  important  par- 
ticular, even  you  will  acknowledge  our  superiority. 
Recollect  what  efforts  you  have  made  to  establish 
Sunday  schools  in  your  Island;  the  associations,  form- 


Education  of  the  Poor. 

tfd  for  their  establishment;  the  difficulties,  which  they 
had  to  overcome;  and  the  exultation,  which  has 
echoed  throughout  England  upon  the  success,  with 
tvhich  they  have  been  attended.  I  give  your  coun- 
trymen full  credit  for  this  Institution;  and  for  the 
good  sense,  liberality,  perseverance,  and  patriotism, 
with  which  it  has  been  originated,  and  supported. 
The  authors,  and  friends,  of  it  I  hold  in  the  highest 
honour;  and  cordially  wish  them  the  richest  blessings 
of  Heaven.  But  I  need  not  inform  you,  that  the  ex- 
istence of  these  schools;  the  discussions  concerning 
their  nature,  and  use;  the  difficulties,  which  were  to 
te  overcome;  the  numerous,  and  noble,  efforts,  to 
which  they  have  given  birth;  and  the  triumph  of  wis- 
dom and  benevolence,  which  they  have  furnished; 
while  they  reflect  immortal  honour  upon  the  name  of 
Hannah  More,  one  of  the  brightest  ornaments  of  the 
human  race,  and  upon  all  her  illustrious  coadjutors, 
declare,  also,  in  the  strongest  manner,  the  extreme  ne- 
cessity of  extending  this  education  to  the  English 
poor,  because  they  were  before  without  education. 

If  you  will  cast  your  eye  on  Dr.  Curries  Life  of 
Burns,  you  will  see,  that  he  has  mentioned  New 
England  as  one  of  the  few  privileged  countries,  in 
which  the  education  of  parochial  schools  is  commu- 
nicated to  the  inhabitants  universally.  The  King,  and 
the  Nobles,  Gentry  and  Clergy  of  Scotland,  occupied  a 
century  in  establishing  this  Institution  in  that  country. 
The  ancestors  of  New  England  commenced,  and  fin- 
ished, it  in  a  day;  and  their  descendants  have  main- 
tained, and  extended,  it  to  the  present  hour. 

I  believe  the  Nobility  of  Great  Britain  are  indis- 
pensable to  the  continuance  of  its  government,  safety, 
and  peace.  But  you  cannot  be  ignorant  of  the 


104  English  Nobility. 

lufeness  of  manners,  which  so  extensively  prevails 
among  those,  who  form  this  distinguished  order;  and 
is  so  often  complained  of  by  your  writers,  of  high  re- 
spectability, and  so  often  evidenced  in  your  courts  of 
justice,  in  other  causes,  beside  those  of  Crim.  Con. 
which  are  numerous,  and  deeply  humiliating  to  your 
national  character.  It  cannot  be  necessary  for  me  to 
remind  you  of  the  private  character  of  Mr  Fox;  him- 
self, indeed,  not  a  nobleman,  yet  of  noble  birth;  or  of 
the  imputations  on  Lord  Melville.  The  history  of 
your  Nobility,  although  there  are  many  honourable 
exceptions,  is  certainly  not  such,  as  to  flatter  the  feel- 
ings of  a  virtuous  Englishman.  Look  at  the  Letters 
of  Juniiis.  Look  at  the  train  of  kept  mistresses,  at 
this  moment,  and  at  every  other  in  your  history,  which 
they,  and  your  GentVy,  in  great  numbers,  hold  up  to 
the  eye  of  the  public,  without  a  blush,  or  even  an 
apology:  and  then  permit  me  to  inform  you,  that  I 
do  not  know  two  persons,  of  this  character,  in  New 
England. 

The  Mediocrity  of  our  circumstances  has  often 
been  an  object  of  ridicule,  as  well  as  of  contempt,  with 
Englishmen.  Here,  however,  it  is  believed  to  be  a 
source  of  no  small  happiness  to  the  inhabitants. 
There  is,  it  must  be  acknowledged,  much  less  splen- 
dour; much  less  to  admire;  much  less  to  boast  of. 
There  are  fewer  palaces;  fewer  stupendous  public 
buildings;  fewer  magnificent  public  works.  But,  Sir, 
one  rich  rnan  is  always  surrounded  by  many  who 
are  poor;  and  one  great  man,  by  many  who  are  little. 
Wretchedness  always  follows  in  the  train  of  pomp, 
and  rags  and  beggary  haunt  the  mansions,  as  well  as 
the  walks  of  pride  and  grandeur.  If  we  have  not 
many  opulent  inhabitants;  we  have  few,  that  are  indi- 


Condition  of  the  People  in  New  England.     105 

gent.  If  we  have  not  palaces;  we  have  few  cottages. 
One  would  think,  that  a  benevolent  man  would  feel 
some  satisfaction  in  looking  around  him,  and  seeing 
competence  and  enjoyment  diffused  universally;  in  be- 
lieving, that,  exclusively  of  the  unavoidable  calamities 
of  this  world,  the  multitude,  and  not  merely  a  few 
persons  possessed  of  princely  fortunes,  were  fed,  and 
clad,  and  lodged  in  a  pleasant  and  desirable  manner. 
To  me,  no  prospect,  confined  to  this  world,  has  been 
so  delightful,  as  that,  which  I  am  always  sure  to  find, 
when  travelling  in  this  country;  the  great  body  of  the 
inhabitants  enjoying  all  the  pleasure,  furnished  by 
these  very  circumstances.  Surely,  Sir,  even  you  must 
be  willing,  that  there  should  be  one  country  of  which 
these  things  may  be  said  with  truth. 

You  may  not  unnaturally  think  this  account  an 
exaggeration.  Perhaps  the  following  observations  of 
one  of  your  own  countrymen  may  convince  you,  that 
it  is  not. 

"Throughout  the  States  of  Connecticut,  Massachu- 
setts, and  New  York,  a  remarkably  neat,  and  indeed 
elegant  style  of  Architecture  and  decoration  seems  to 
pervade  all  the  buildings  in  the  towns  and  villages; 
and,  I  understand,  is  more  or  less  prevalent  in  the  rest 
of  the  Northern  and  Middle  States.  The  houses  in 
the  small  towns  and  villages  are  mostly  built  of  wood; 
generally  one  or  two  stories  above  the  ground  floor: 
The  sides  are  neatly  clap- boarded  and  painted  white. 
The  sloping  roofs  are  covered  with  shingles  and  paint- 
ed of  a  state  colour;  and,  with  sash  windows,  green 
Venetian  shades  outside,  neat  white  railings,  and  steps, 
have  a  pretty  effect.  Sometimes  the  entrance  is  orna- 
mented with  a  portico.  The  churches,  or  as  they  are 
oi'tener  termed  meetings,  (meeting  houses,)  are  con- 


106     Condition  of  the  People  in  New  England. 

structed  of  similar  materials,  painted  white,  and  fre- 
quently decorated,  like  the  houses,  with  sash  windows 
and  green  Venetian  shades  outside.  The  building  is 
also  surmounted  by  a  handsome  spire  or  steeple,  with 
one  or  two  bells.  A  small  town  composed  of  these 
neat  and  ornamental  edifices,  and  situated  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  well  cultivated  farms,  large  fields, 
orchards,  and  gardens,  produces  a  most  agreeable 
effect,  and  gives  the  traveller  a  high  opinion  of  the 
prosperity  of  the  country,  and  of  the  wealth  of  its  in- 
habitants. Indeed,  those  parts  of  the  Northern  and 
Middle  States,  through  which  I  travelled,  have  the 
appearance  of  old,  well  settled  countries.  The  towns 
and  villages  are  populous;  provisions  cheap  and  abun- 
dant; the  farms  appear  in  excellent  order:  and  the  in- 
habitants sober,  industrious,  religious,  and  happy."* 

Permit  me  to  add  another  shor  t  paragraph  from  the 
same  traveller. 

"Through  the  whole  of  this  journey  of  240  miles, 
from  New  York  to  Boston,  I  had  passed  over  a  most 
beautiful  tract  of  country,  which,  from  the  manners  of 
its  inhabitants,  the  excellent  order  of  its  towns,  villa- 
ges, and  buildings,  its  farms,  and  orchards,  gardens, 
pasture  and  meadow  lands,  together  with  the  face  of 
the  country,  undulated  with  mountains,  hills,  plains, 
and  vallies,  watered  by  a  number  of  rivers,  small  lakes, 
and  streams,  afforded  a  variety  of  the  most  beautiful 
landscapes,  and  strongly  reminded  me  of  English 
scenery  ."t 

Your  next  attack  is  upon  a  subject,  which,  I  be- 
lieve, no  British  Journalist,  who  has  meddled  at  all 
with  America,  and  scarcely  a  single  British  traveller, 

*  Lambert,  voL  iii,  p.  89, 9<X  t  Lambert,  vol.  iij,  r«  98 


Genius  and  Learning  oj  the  Americans.      107 

who  has  visited  its  shores,  has  passed  by:  the  Genius 
and  Learning  of  this  country.  The  observations, 
made  by  those  among  your  writers,  who  first  handled 
this  part  of  the  American  character,  have  been  regu- 
larly thrummed  over  by  all,  who  have  followed  them. 
The  story,  Sir,  has  become  absolutely  stale:  and,  if 
^•ou  will  permit  me  to  advise,  you  will  not  repeat  it 
again  until  twelve  months  shall  have  fairly  finished 
their  circle.  It  was  a  pleasant  story  enough  at  first,  I 
acknowledge;  but  a  perpetual  reiteration  of  the  same 
thing,  however  good  it  may  be,  will  become  rather 
dull.  Lest  I  should  become  so  too,  my  strictures  upon 
them  shall  not  be  delayed  by  a  long  preface. 

The  observation,  which  you  have  quoted  from  the 
Abbe  Raynal,  which  has  been  written  off  in  a  succes- 
sion, not  much  less  repetitious,  or  protracted,  than  that, 
in  which  school-beys  of  former  times  wrote  "Com- 
mand you  may  your  mind  from  play "  is  a  proof  of 
the  Abbe's  ignorance,  or  a  specimen  of  his  customary 
indifference  to  truth.  The  two  Edwardses,  father  and 
son,  have  exhibited  as  high  metaphysical  powers,  as 
Europe  can  boast;  and  have  thrown  more  light  on 
several  abstruse  subjects,  of  the  highest  importance, 
than  all  the  Philosophers  of  that  continent  and  your 
own  Island,  united.  ? 

With  Mr.  Barlowjs  Columbiad  you  have  a  right  to 
take  any  decent  liberty.  He  has  treated  your  country 
in  such  a  manner,  as  to  be  lawful  game  to  a  Briton, 
I  shall,  therefore,  leave  him  in  your  hands. 

After  disposing  of  him,  you  say,  "to  Mr.  Barlow's 
Epic  may  be  joined  a  Poem  by  a  Mr.  Fingal.  No 
ascendant,"  you  say,  "we  believe,  of  the  Caledonian 
bard  of  that  name*"  You  are  perfectly  right,  Sir,  in 
your  conjecture.  The  author  is  not  a  descendant  of 


108  Mac  Fingal. 

Ossian,  the  Caledonian  bard,  to  whom,  I  suppose  you 
refer,  and  who  left  no  descendants.  At  least  I  see  not 
how  he  could  have  sprung  from  this  bard,  unless  by  a 
Hybernian  figure  of  speech.  Nor  was  he  a  descend- 
ant of  the  real  Fingal;  the  father  of  this  same  bard. 
The  author,  Sir,  is  a  Mr.  Trumbull,  one  of  the  judges 
of  the  Supreme  Court,  of  the  State  of  Connecticut.  It 
was  written,  when  he  was  a  young  man,  in  the  year 
1775.  The  name  of  the  Poem,  Sir,  is  Mac  Fingal. 
On  this  subject,  as  unhappily  on  many  others,  which 
you  have  thought  proper  to  handle,  you  have  not 
been  well  informed.  Were  you  to  read  it,  which  from 
your  observations  it  is  evident  you  have  not  done,  you 
would  find,  that  it  is  a  work,  displaying  fine  talents, 
a  degree  of  wit,  and  of  humour,  also,  rarely  rivalled; 
little  inferiour  in  these  respects  to  your  celebrated  Hu- 
dibras;  and  in  every  other,  far  superiour.  It  is  true 
the  sprightly  excursions  of  the  poet  are  sometimes  di- 
rected against  Great  Britain;  as  those  of  Butler  are 
against  Presbyterians;  but  as  I,  a  Presbyterian,  can 
laugh  very  heartily  with  Butler,  so,  undoubtedly,  will 
you  be  able  to  do  with  Trumbull;  especially  as  the 
prejudices  of  an  American  Presbyterian  must  be  very 
strong;  and  those  of  an  English  Episcopalian  barely 
exist;  if,  indeed,  it  can  be  tnjly  said,  that  they  exist  at 
all.  At  all  events,  Sir,  read  this  poem,  before  you 
write  about  it  again;  and,  at  least,  learn  its  true  name. 
Concerning  Dr.  Franklin  I  shall  make  no  other  ob- 
servations than  that  a  multitude  of  your  own  writers, 
and  a  multitude  of  others,  in  France  and  Germany, 
have  spoken  of  him  in  a  very  different  manner 
from  that,  in  which  you  have  chosen  to  speak, 
and  that  you  must  permit  me  to  believe,  from  the  re- 


Dr.  Rittenhouse.  109 

marks  which  you  have  made,  you  are  ignorant  both 
of  the  history,  and  of  the  science,  of  electricity. 

Concerning  Dr.  Rittenhouse,  your  strictures  are  emi- 
nently unfortunate.  You  say,  that  "Rittenhouse  was 
an  Englishman,  not  an  American"  Dr.  Rittenhouse 
was  born  in  Germantown,  seven  miles  from  Philadel- 
phia; and  was  descended  from  ancestors,  who  came 
into  this  country  from  Holland.  He  was  bred  to  the 
business  of  a  plain  farmer;  and,  while  he  was  employ- 
ed, when  a  boy,  in  the  common  pursuits  of  agricul- 
ture, indicated  a  peculiar  propensity  to  Mathematical 
science  by  numerous  Geometrical  figures,  which,  for 
want  of  better  materials,  he  drew  upon  his  plough,  up- 
on the  fences,  surrounding  the  field  of  his  labour,  and 
even  upon  the  stones,  which  it  contained.  A  delicate 
constitution  compelled  him  to  leave  the  farm,  and  to 
betake  himself  to  the  business  of  making  clocks,  and 
mathematical  instruments.  In  both  these  arts  he  was 
his  own  instructor.  He  invented  the  science  of  Flux- 
ions; and  for  a  considerable  time  did  not  know,  that  it 
had  any  other  author.  Finding  an  English  translation 
of  Neivton's  Principia,  he  made  himself  master  of  this 
abstruse  work,  when  he  could  scarcely  be  said  to  have 
reached  manhood. 

You  say  some  hard,  and  impertinent,  things  of  Mr. 
Jefferson,  because  he  asserted,  that  uDr.  Rittenhouse, 
by  imitation,  approached  nearer  to  the  Maker  of  the 
world  than  any  other  man;  and  that  his  model  of  the 
planetary  system  has  the  plagiary  appellation  of  an 
Orrery."  I  suspect,  that  you  mistake  the  meaning  of 
the  latter  assertion.  Mr.  Jefferson  intended,  not  that 
preceding  imitations  of  the  planetary  system  had  not 
been  named  Orreries,  but  that  Dr.  Rittenhouse's  plan- 
etarium was  a  work,  so  different  from  the  Orreries  of 
15 


110  Dr.  Rittenhouse. 

Europe,  so  superiour  to  them,  and  so  entirely  an  in- 
vention of  his  own,  that  it  was  an  errour  to  call  it  by 
that  name.  Had  you  seen  it,  I  am  persuaded  you 
would  have  adopted  Mr.  Jefferson's  opinion. 

You  subjoin — "All  that  posterity  knows  about  him 
is,  that  as  President  of  a  democratic  club  at  Philadel* 
phia,  afterwards  called  The  Philosophical  Society,  he 
signed  some  inflammatory  resolutions,  tending  to  abet 
the  Western  insurrection;  and  that  he  was  a  good 
measurer  of  land." 

This,  Sir,  may  be  all  that  English  posterity  knows 
about  Dr.  Rittenhouse:  and  a  part  ot  this  must  be 
known  by  the  aid  of  peculiar  optics,  because  it  is  not 
true.  The  Philosophical  Society  of  Philadelphia 
was  never  a  democratic  club,  nor  a  political  club  in 
any  sense.  It  was  instituted  in  the  year  1769,  long  be- 
fore democracy  was  heard  of  in  this  country;  and  has 
ever  been  engaged,  and  with  a  considerable  degree  of 
success,  in  promoting  science:  and  this  has  been  its  on- 
ly employment. 

But  American  posterity  knows  much  more  about  this 
Gentleman. — He  is  known,  here,  by  several  curious 
Astronomical  calculations,  and  observations;  particu- 
larly of  the  transits  of  Venus  and  Mercury,  in  1769; 
and  by  his  very  useful  labours  in  settling,  to  the  general 
satisfaction,  territorial  lines  between  different  States, 
For  thirteen  years  he  was  treasurer  of  the  State  of 
Pennsylvania;  and  was  regularly  chosen  by  an  annu- 
al and  unanimous  vote  of  the  Legislature.  Soon  af- 
ter he  resigned  this  office,  he  was  appointed  the  first 
Director  of  the  American  Mint;  and  held  that  office 
until  bad  health  compelled  him  to  resign  it.  Permit 
me  to  add,  Sir,  that  he  preserved,  through  life,  a  char- 
acter unstained  and  irreproachable;  was  holdeninhigh 


Hartley's  Quadrant.  ill 

esteem  by  the  best  men  in  this  country,  and  among 
others  by  Washington;  and  died  in  the  full  belief  of 
the  Christian  system,  and  the  strong  hope  of  realizing 
its  blessings  in  the  future  world.  What  may,  perhaps, 
be  in  your  view  of  more  importance  than  all,  he  was 
a  Fellow  of  the  Royal  Society  in  London.  In  your 
next  edition  of  this  train  of  observations  on  American 
genius  and  literature,  which  I  shall  look  for  in  some 
one  of  your  numbers  for  the  year  1815,  I  hope  for 
your  own  sake,  you  will  treat  JDr.  Riitenhouse  with  a 
little  more  pivility. 

In  your  account  ofHadley^s  Quadrant  you  are  equal- 
ly unhappy.  It  was  invented,  notwithstanding  you 
are  pleased  to  challenge  the  honour  of  the  invention, 
as  belonging  to  Hadtey,  whom  you  call  "your  ingen- 
ious countryman,"  by  a  Mr.  Godfrey  of  Philadelphia, 
Permit  me  to  tell  you  the  story. 

A  considerable  premium  had  been  offered  in  Lon- 
don for  the  invention  of  a  Quadrant  possessing  the 
properties,  which  were  ultimately  attained  in  this. 
Godfrey,  a  poor  but  ingenious  man,  applied  himself 
diligently  to  the  business  of  forming  one,  which  should 
answer  the  description  given  in  these  proposals,  and 
succeeded.  To  acquire  the  premium,  and  the  honour 
of  the  invention,  he  engaged  a  passage  to  England  in 
a  ship,  just  ready  to  sail  from  Philadelphia.  John 
Hadley,  Esq.  then  commanded  a  ship,  lying  also  in  the 
Delaware;  and  invited  the  Captain,  with  whom  God- 
frey was  to  sail,  to  dine  with  him.  After  dinner  he 
brought  out  a  Quadrant,  which  he  considered  as  supe- 
riour  to  those  in  common  use.  His  guest  told  him, 
that  if  he  would  dine  with  him  the  next  day,  he  would 
shew  him  one,  lately  invented  by  a  Philadelphian, 
which  was  much  guperiour  to  his  own.  Hartley  cou~ 


112  City  of  Washington. 

Dented;  and  came  the  next  day,  provided  with  the 
means  of  taking  an  exact  description  of  the  new 
quadrant.  After  they  had  dined,  the  quadrant  was 
produced;  and  Hadley  took  a  description  of  it.  His 
ship  being  ready  to  sail,  he  fell  dov/n  the  river  that 
night;  and,  having  a  very  short  passage  to  England, 
procured  a  quadrant  to  be  made  of  the  same  structure. 
Some  weeks  afterwards  the  ship,  in  which  Godfrey 
sailed,  arrived  in  England.  Here  he  found  among 
that  class  of  people,  who  were  interested  in  such  a  sub- 
ject, much  conversation  about  Hadleifs  quadrant,  as 
being  a  new  and  very  happy  invention,  and  much  su- 
periour  to  any,  which  had  before  been  known.  He 
procured  a  sight  of  the  instrument,  and  found  it  exact- 
Jy  the  same  with  his  own.  You  may  suppose,  that 
he  was  astonished  at  this  discovery.  The  captain, 
scarcely  less  astonished  at  the  grossness  of  the  fraud, 
and  deeply  wounded  by  this  proof  of  his  own  indis- 
cretion, explained  the  mystery  to  Godfrey.  The  un- 
happy man  became  a  maniac.  Your  countryman 
was,  indeed,  ingenious,  Sir.  I  wish  he  had  been 
honest. 

Your  observations  concerning  the  City  of  Washing- 
ion  are  sufficiently  contemptuous;  and  I  acknowledge, 
that  there  is  some  foundation  for  a  part  of  the  ridi- 
cule, which  they  throw  upon  it.  The  Comedy  has, 
however,  had  a  tragical  catastrophe.  Your  Officers 
have  blown  up  the  Capitol,  and  burnt  the  President's 
house.  They  cost  a  million  and  a  half  of  dollars; 
and  both  were  esteemed  fine  pieces  of  Architecture  by 
respectable  Europeans,  as  well  as  by  the  people  of  this 
country.  But  whatever  distinction  they  might  claim; 
or  whether  they  could,  or  could  not,  claim  any;  they 
now  no  more,  Probably  you  may  enjoy  more 


American  Naval  Efforts.  113 

pleasure  in  recollecting  this  fact,  than  most  travellers 
will,  in  surveying  the  ruins. 

You  next  indulge  your  spleen  upon  our  Naval  ef- 
forts. Really,  Sir,  if  I  may  judge  from  the  informa- 
tion, which  reaches  this  country  from  Great  Britain, 
the  exploits  of  our  seamen  awaken  no  very  pleasant 
sensations  in  the  minds  of  your  countrymen.*  From 
the  pains,  which  you  take,  on  all  occasions,  to  magni- 
fy our  force  much  beyond  its  real  amount,  and  to  di* 
minish  yours  much  beneath  it;  and  that,  in  various 
instances,  in  defiance  of  the  vessels,  and  guns,  and 
men,  actually  in  our  possession;  when  you  make  such 
laborious,  and  formal  calculations  on  the  subject; 
when  you  so  solemnly  inquire  why  the  Americans 
Jire  so  much  more  rapidly  than  your  own  people;  and 
when  you  exult  so  much  in  the  capture  of  the  Ches- 
apeake; an  exploit,  much  less  brilliant  than  you  make 
it;  I  cannot  help  suspecting,  that  you  think  more 
highly  of  the  American  seamen  than  your  are  will- 
ing to  express.  If  you  do  not;  you  are  the  only  na- 
tion in  the  world,  which  does  not.  We,  at  least,  are 
satisfied  with  both  their  bravery  and  their  conduct: 
much  more  so,  if  I  mistake  not,  than  you  are.  Let 
me  add,  that  you  have  not  been  accustomed  to  make 

¥  From  CobbetPs  Register*  "I  have  from  the  first  expressed  my  appre- 
hension as  to  the  end  of  the  war.  I  used  my  utmost  endeavors  to  prevent, 
it. — At  last  the  war  took  place,  and  the  disgraoe,  which  we  suffered  at  sea,  com- 
pleted the  madness  of  the  nation,  who  seemed  to  have  no  other  feeling  than  that 
of  mortification  and  revenge.  What!  should  the  people  be  suffered  to  livei 
should  they  be  suffered  to  exist  in  the  world;  who  had  defeated,  and  captured,  a 
British  frigate!  should  those,  who  had  caused  the  British  flag  to  be  hauled  down, 
not  be  exterminated!  Disappointment;  fury!  The  nation  was  mad.  "Rule  Brit- 
tannia,"  the  constant  call  of  the  boasting  rabble  at  places  of  public  resort,  was  no 
longer  called  for  with  such  eagerness,  and  was  heard  with  less  rapture.  The  he- 
roes in  blue  and  buff  carried  their  heads  less  lofty.  Their  voices  seemed  to  be- 
come more  faint,  and  their  port  less  majestic.  They  seemed  to  feel,  as  men  of 
honour  would,  upon  such  an  occasion.  In  short,  we  all  fclt}  that  a  new  era  had 
taken  place  in  the  naval  annals  of  the  world." 


114  British  House  of  Peers. 

this  ado  about  your  naval  rencounters  with  any  oth- 
er nation. 

At  the  close  of  these  observations  you  mention  a 
silly  speech  made  by  Mr.  Wright  of  Maryland,  a 
member  of  Congress.  YouJ^ad  before  given  a  very 
contemptuous  account  of  the  persons,  who  consti- 
tute the  House  of  Representatives,  and  of  the  indecent 
manner,  in  which  their  debates  are  conducted.  With 
regard  to  the  last  of  these  articles  I  observe,  that, 
though  I  do  not  think  very  highly  of  the  manner,  in 
which  the  debates  of  our  Representatives  are  carried 
on,  yet  the  adventure  of  Matthew  Lyon  did  not  exist 
during  the  time,  when  the  House  was  in  Session;  and 
therefore  does  not  affect  the  manner  of  conducting 
their  debates.  It  is,  I  believe,  bare  justice  to  our 
House  of  Representatives  to  say,  that,  while  in  session, 
they  are  at  least  as  decorous,  as  your  House  of  Com- 
mons; and  that  the  Houses  of  Representatives  in  Con- 
necticut and  Massachusetts  are  incomparably  more  so. 

Please,  Sir,  to  read  the  following  transcript  from 
your  Parliamentary  Chronicle,  reciting  some  transac- 
tions in  your  House  of  Lords. 

June  17th,  1794.  "The  Lord  Chancellor  then  pro- 
ceeded to  read  Lord  Grenville's  original  Motion  of 
Thanks;  when  he  was  interrupted  by 

Lord  Lauderdale;  who  insisted  that  he  had  a  right 
first  to  propose  a  Motion  of  Thanks  to  Colonel  Vill- 
ette  for  his  meritorious  services  at  Corsica:  Colonel 
Fillette  being  equally  entitled  to  them  as  Lord  Hood, 

The  interposition  of  the  Noble  Earl  being  contrary 
to  all  the  established  Rules  of  Parliament,  he  was  call- 
ed to  Order  by  the  whole  House. 

The  Noble  Earl,  however,  persisted  in  what  he 
his  right. 


Lord  Lander daie.  115 

The  Lord  Chancellor  stood  up,  and  said,  he  spoke 
to  Order  from  the  Woolsack. 

Lord  Lauderdale,  notwithstanding  this,  attempted 
to  proceed,  though  the  voices  of  "The  Chair,  The 
Chair,"  echoed  from  all  sides. 

Lord  Hawkesbury  declared,  he  had  sat  thirty-five 
years  in  Parliament,  and  never  witnessed  such  unru- 
ly and  disorderly  behaviour  in  any  Member.  He  call- 
ed upon  their  Lordships  to  support  the  Chair;  or  all 
that  was  decent,  and  orderly,  in  the  Senate,  would  be 
annihilated. 

Lord  Lauderdale  never  sat  down  the  whole  time; 
and,  as  soon  as  Lord  Hawkesbury  finished,  again  at- 
tempted to  interrupt  the  Chancellor,  who  was  also  on 
his  legs. 

The  House  at  length  prevailed;  and  the  united 
voice  of  their  Lordships  in  a  peremptory  manner 
compelled  the  Noble  Lord  to  desist. 

Is  it  then  true,  Sir,  that  your  Peers  of  the  Realm, 
assembled  in  the  House  of  Lords,  and  proceeding  in 
the  solemn  business  of  Legislation,  behave  in  this 
manner?  Is  it  true,  that  one  of  them,  of  high  name, 
and  great  consequence,  trespassed  so  grossly  on  the 
established  rules  of  order,  that  another  of  similar  dis- 
tinction, felt  himself  obliged  to  call  upon  the  House 
to  support  the  Lord  Chancellor;  and  to  declare,  that, 
if  they  did  not,  all,  that  was  decent  and  orderly  in 
the  Senate,  would  be  annihilated?  and  was  this  No- 
bleman so  disorderly  that  he  could  not  be  reduced  to 
order,  until  the  whole  House  of  Peers,  uniting  their 
voices  in  a  peremptory  manner,  compelled  him  to  de- 
sist? Had  you  been  a  member  of  the  American  Sen- 
ate from  its  commencement  to  the  present  hour;  you 
yourself  would  say.  that  all  the  indecorums,  which 


116  Earl  Stanhope. 

have  taken  place  in  it,  would  not  amount  to  one  such 
scene,  as  this. 

As  to  silly  speeches,  I  think  you  have  your  share  of 
them.  Permit  me  to  make  a  few  extracts. 

Earl  Stanhope— — ;cThe  learned  Lordlias  said,  that 
the  aristocrat  tradesmen  [In  this  land  oi  blunders  we 
should  have  said  aristocratic  tradesmen.]  approved 
their  conduct:  the  only  persons,  who  disapproved 
thereof,  were  the  Sans  Culottes.  I  am  a  Sans-Culotte 
citizen;  a  Sans-Culotte  individual;  one  of  that  swinish 
multitude,  who  think  their  proceedings  unjust  and 
illegal." 

Permit  me  to  ask,  whether  the  noble  Earl  at  this 
time  appeared  in  the  House  of  Peers  without  his  small 
clothes? 

April  15,  1794. 

Again.  Sir  Gregory  Page  Turner — whom  I  take  to 
be  one  of  the  country  Gentlemen,  who  are  unlike  any 
thing,  found  throughout  the  whole  range  of  the  United 
States. 

"He  said,  he  had  not  opened  his  mouth  before  this 
session,  though  he  had  constantly  supported  the  war 
in  the  strongest  manner  with  a  silent  vote.  He  was 
both  willing,  and  ready  to  submit  to  any  taxation,  the 
Minister  should  be  pleased  to  impose;  and  for  that 
purpose,  would,4n  concert  with  the  other  Gentlemen 
of  that  House,  deliver  in  an  exact  and  regular  detail 
of  his'  property.  He  did  not  mean  to  compliment 
Mr.  Pitt,  but  he  certainly  had  a  high  opinion  of  his 
integrity,  and  accordingly  pronounced  a  long  and  irreg- 
ular eulogium  thereon.  What  was  equalization? 
The  French  had  talked  of  equalization:  but  in  truth 
he  supposed  they  wanted  to  make  an  equal  partition 
of  property.  Every  body  knew  he  had  not  much 


Sir  Gregory   Page  Turner.  117 

janded  property,  but  what  he  had  he  should  not  like 
to  share  with  these  fellows.  He  was  an  insignificant 
Member,  as  the  House  supposed  him  to  be;  and  could 
not  say  much  to  the  purpose;  but  he  had  two  or  three 
good  coats  which  he  supposed  the  French  also  would 
like  to  take,  and  have  him  only  one.  He  supposed 
too,  that  men,  who  had  no  money,  would  scramble 
for  all  they  could  get;  and  those  who  had  but  ten 
pounds,  might  want  a  hundred,  or  perhaps  two  hun* 
dred:  he  could  not  telL  (During  the  whole  of  this 
diverting  Peroration,  the  House  was  convulsed  with 
laughter;  and  the  Speaker  was  obliged  to  force  an  air 
of  gravity,  to  command  order.)  The  Honourable 
Baronet  wondered  why  the  Gentlemen  enjoyed  his 
speech  so  much,  since  he  did  not  pretend  to  humour, 
These  were  his  real  sentiments,  which  are — which 
are — which  are — (another  fit  of  laughter.)  The 
War — Much  had  been  said  of  the  War.  It  is  the 
War  of  Europe.  It  is — a  War!!!  We  had  engaged 
in  this  War,  not  for  attack,  but  defence;  to  secure  our 
property,  our  lives  and  honours"  March  6,  1794. 

1  am  so  pleased  with  the  speeches  of  this  Gen- 
tleman, that  I  must  be  permitted  to  copy  another 
specimen  of  his  Oratorical  powers,  exhibited  May  26, 
1796. 

"Sir  Gregory  Page  Turner"  says  the  Parliamen- 
tary Chronicle,  "craved  the  indulgence  of  the  House 
for  a  few  observations  which  he  had  to  make.  When 
he  stood  up  in  the  morning,  or  when  he  lay  down  at 
night,  he  always  felt  for  the  Constitution.  (A  laugh.) 
On  this  question  he  never  had  but  one  opinion. 
When  he  came  first  into  Parliament,  he  remembered, 
that  the  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer  proposed  a  Re- 
form; but  he  saw  it  was  wrong,  and  he  opposed  it, 
16 


118  Earl  Stanhope, 

Would  it  not  be  madness  to  change  what  had  existed 
sound  from  the  days  of  his  father?  (Loud  laughter.) 
Were  Gentlemen  to  make  changes  in  their  Constitu- 
tion, as  they  altered  the  cut  of  a  coat,  for  the  fashion, 
or  as  a  lady  fancied  a  new  head  dress?  (Burst  of 
laughter.)  When  questions  of  such  a  dangerous  na- 
ture, as  the  present,  was  brought  forward,  he  could  not 
sleep  quietly  on  his  peaceful  pillow.  Gentlemen  spoke 
of  places  and  pensions.  He  had  neither  place  nor 
pension;  and  therefore  he  was  at  issue  with  them  on 
the  score  of  independence.  Did  Birmingham  and 
Manchester  bring  forward  propositions  for  a  Reform? 
No.  They  were  brought  forward  by  Gentlemen,  high 
in  talents,  and  high  in  Opposition.  Did  Gentlemen 
expect  to  stop  bribery,  and  corruption,  in  our  Govern- 
ment? He  never  had  such  an  idea,  It  was  all  one, 
whether  the  House  consisted  of  5000,  or  500.  They 
had  not  to  consider  who  the  Electors  were,  but  who 
the  elected  are." 

Now  for  Lord  Stanhope  again. 

"I  am  a  friend  to  liberty,  to  French  liberty,  so  far 
as  it  respects  the  rights  of  individuals;  and  I  will  go  so 
far  as  to  add,  that,  if  the  fortune  of  war  so  ordain  it,  I 
shall  glory  to  be  hanged  in  such  a  cause:  for  it  is  the 
cause  of  Mankind,  and  of  Philosophy." 

Now,  Sir,  if  his  Lordship  had  really  a  strong  wish 
to  be  hanged,  I  must  be  permitted  to  say,  that  any 
attempts  on  the  part  of  the  House  of  Peers,  to  prevent 
his  Lordship  from  going  to  the  gallows,  must  have 
been  an  unseemly,  and  perhaps  an  untimely,  interfer- 
ence. For  the  cause  of  Mankind,  peradventure  some 
one  might  even  dare  to  die;  but  for  the  cause  of  Phi- 
losophy scarcely  woutd  any  man  die.  Since,  then,  a 
martyr  has  been  actually  found,  ready  to  venture  his 


Mr.  Drake,  jun.  119 

fleck  in  this  cause,  the  man  must  be  very  little  of  a  phi- 
losopher, who  would  step  between  his  Lordship  and  the 
gallows;  but  should  his  Lordship  actually  be  hanged  in 
this  cause,  I  should  humbly  advise  him  not  to  appear 
on  the  gallows  in  his  favourite  character  of  a  Sans 
Culotte. 

Mr.  Drake,  jun.  "I  applaud  the  Honourable  Gentle* 
man,  that  has  just  sat  down,  who  defended,  with  sub- 
lime, astonishing,  and  angelic  eloquence,  the  measure 
approved  by  his  Majesty.  Immortal  thanks  to  him 
for  the  honesty,  and  manliness  of  his  declarations.  I 
shall  always  be  proud  to  have  the  honour  of  uniting 
with  a  man,  so  characterized,  and  so  immortalized!  I 
shall  be  proud  to  join  him,  to  overturn  the  enemies  of 
our  glorious  Constitution.  I  shall  fight  for  this  won- 
derful fabric  to  the  last  drop  of  my  blood!  He  that 
entertains,  and  propagates,  contrary  opinions,  is  the 
greatest  enemy  to  mortal  man!  For  my  part,  I  had 
rather  die  a  Loyalist,  than  live  a  Republican.  Oh! 
then,  Sir,  let  us  draw  ourselves  out  in  battle  array  for 
the  peace  of  the  country.  Oh!  Sir,  I  will  not  declare — 
Yes,  Sir,  I  will  declare,  what  delight  it  gave  me  to 
hear  the  Noble  Lord  over  the  way,  (Lord  Titchfield,} 
express  himself  as  he  did.  I  love  that  Noble  Marquis; 
I  love  him  in  my  heart,  for  the  speech,  he  delivered 
this  night.  Oh!  Sir,  this  country  loves  the  Bentincks 
and  the  Cavendishes.  Come  now,  ye  valiant  defend- 
ers of  the  glorious  Revolution,  assist  me  in  my  hon- 
ourable endeavours  to  immortalize  that  wonderful 
event." 

Really,  Sir,  this  is  very  fine;  and  is  no  unhappy 
specimen  of  that  "sublime,  astonishing,  and  Angelic 
eloquence/'  which  Mr.  Drake  applauded  so  fervently 
in  Mr.  Anstruther.  Why,,  Sir,  this  outdoes  Mr. 


120  Mr.  Drake,  jun. 

Wright  himself;  and  approaches  near  to  thunder* 
and  lightning- Williams.  But  we  are  not  yet  come 
to  the  acme  of  Mr.  Draktfs  eloquence:  and  far  be  it 
from  me  to  do  injustice,  even  in  thought,  to  such  a 
rival  of  Cicero,  by  failing  on  this  occasion  to  quote 
his  most  pre-eminent  effusions.  Here  they  are. 

"Mr.  Drake  then — in  the  most  emphatic  terms  con- 
jured his  Honourable,  ever  Honourable,  and  right 
Honourable,  friends  to  unite  heart  and  hand  in  sup- 
pressing, and  extirpating,  the  very  semen  of  a  Revolu- 
tion, 'which  was  but  too  evident  in  the  volcanic,  sub- 
terranean, infernal,  diabolical,  eloquence  of  his  inimi- 
cal friends;  who — (Here  an  immoderate  peal  of 
laughter.)  The  Honourable  Member  went  on,  "I 
have  been  interrupted  in  one  of  the  most  essential 
privileges  of  a  British  Senator:  to  wit,  the  freedom  of 
speech;  which,  I  hope,  the  Speaker  has  not  om  tted  to 
demand  of  his  Majesty  in  the  present  session  of  Par- 
liament.  If  it  has  been  obtained,  I,  in  common  with 
other  Members,  have  a  right  to  avail  myself  of  it.  In 
order  to  conciliate  the  attention  of  the  House,  I  lament 
that  it  is  necessary  for  Members  to  detail  their  politi- 
cal creeds.  Whatever  that  of  others  may  be,  mine  is 
loyalty  to  my  King,  fidelity  to  my  Country,  and  love 
to  the  Constitution."  (Great  animation.) 

Mr.  Drake — "jf  by  theatrical  gesticulation  I  have 
betrayed  an  excess  of  animation,  it  was  but  the  ebul- 
litions of  my  heart,  which  oblige  me  to  exclaim  with 
Hamlet,  that 

"I  have  that  within,  whiph  passeth  shew; 
These  but  the  trappings,  that  the  seat,  of  woe.** 

Pray,  Sir,  is  Mr.  Drake  now  alive?  If  he  is,  could 
you  not  persuade  him  to  take  a  short  trip  across  the 


The  Earl  of  Abingdon.  121 

Atlantic,  and  teach  by  his  example  our  Senators  and 
Representatives  a  little  eloquence?  I  do  not  mean,  Sir, 
"the  volcanic,  subterranean,  infernal,  diabolical  elo- 
quence of  his  inimical  friends;"  I  mean  his  own  elo- 
quence, and  somewhat  of  that  "theatrical  gesticula- 
tion," and  that  "excess  of  animation,"  one  or  both  of 
which  "is  but  the  ebullitions  of  the  heart."  Who 
knows,  Sir,  but  such  a  measure,  as  this,  would  improve 
the  Honourable  Mr  Clopton,  the  Honourable  Mr. 
Widgery,  and  even  the  Honourable  Willis  Alston. 
Indeed,  Sir,  it  is  difficult  to  conceive  how  much  good  it 
might  do. 

Turn  we  now  again  to  the  House  of  Lords,  Novem- 
ber 13,  1796. 

The  Farl  of  Abingdon— "The  Noble  Secretary  of 
State  has  on  a  former  night  said  a  good  deal  about 
Lord  Clarendon.  Since  that  debate,  I  have  met  with 
a  book,  which  gives  a  full  account  of  Lord  Clarendon. 
I  will  read  some  passages  from  that  book,  to  show 
your  Lordships  what  kind  of  a  man  that  celebrated 
character  was  In  the  first  place,  I  have  to  observe, 
that  Lord  Clarendon  was  a  very  superstitious  fellow, 
and  believed  in  ghosts.  But  I  will  read  a  very  curious 
dialogue  out  of  this  book  about  him."  (Here  some  of 
their  Lordships  asked  the  name  of  the  book.)  Lord 
Abingdon.  "It  Is  a  book  of  good  authority.  It  is  an 
hundred  years  old:  and  I  bought  it  at  a  stall.  Before 
I  proceed  to  read  this  passage,  I  wish  to  observe,  that 
I  think  the  old  doctrine  of  Passive  Obedience  and 
Non  Resistance  is  revived.  I  was  in  hopes  it  had  been 
quite  buried,  since  James  the  Second's  reign.  I  wish 
to  ask  the  Reverend  Prelate  (Bishop  of  Rochester*) 
whether  Vox  Populi  is  not  Vox  Dei.  I  will  prove  ii 

f  JSjshop  Horsley, 


The  Earl  of  Abingdon. 

is;  and  that  God  Almighty  always  inspires  the  Peo- 
ple on  such  occasions,  and  will  do  so  still.  1  will 
prove  this  by  authors  as  old  as  Methusalem\*  though 
I  am  not  prepared  now:  but  when  I  am,  I  mean  to 
come  down  with  a  very  severe  Phillippic  upon  the 
subject." 

Bishop  of  Rochester.  "Never  having  had  the  good 
fortune  of  meeting  with  any  author,  as  old  as  Methu- 
salem,  I  cannot  meet  the  Noble  Lord  upon  the  sub- 
ject." 

Earl  ofAbingdon.  "As  I  am  not  prepared  now,  I 
will  prove  it  clearly  some  other  time.  I  however  in- 
form the  Bench  of  Bishops,  and  your  Lordships,  that 
every  one  of  you,  who  believe  in  the  doctrine  of  Pas- 
sive Obedience  and  Non- Resistance,  will  be  damned 
without  redemption;  because  it  is  against  the  Revolu- 
tion principles" 

Again.  "I  have  written  against  Mr.  Burke.  I 
have  published  against  him:  and  yet  he  never  would 
answer  me.  I  have  begged  him  to  cut  me  up,  to 
flea  me  alive;  (an  American  would  have  said  flay;) 
so  as  he  would  but  answer  me:  but  not  a  line  could  I 
get  from  him."  The  debate  at  the  third  reading  of 
the  bill  for  the  preservation  of  his  Majesty's  Person 
and  Government. 

I  do  not  believe,  Sir,  that  Mr.  Wright  himself, 
when  he  was  a  Senator  of  the  United  States,  and  de- 
livered a  secret  Message  (made  secret  at  his  own  re- 
quest,)  before  a  crowded  gallery  in  the  House  of  Rep- 
resentatives, could  have  excelled  this  display  of  Lord 
Abingdotfs  oratorical  powers.  But  his  Lordship,  as 
we  learn  from  the  same  source,  appears  as  a  Divine. 
as  well  as  an  Orator. 

*  Our  Bibles  read  Methuselah 


The  Earl  of  Abingdon.  123 

On  January  6,  1796,  in  a  debate  on  the  Resolution 
that  Great  Britain  "ought  not  and  would  not,  inter- 
fere in  the  internal  affairs  of  France"  the  Earl  of  Ah- 
ingdon  observed,  "Does  not  the  Noble  Lord  (Earl 
Stanhope)  know,  that  retaliation,  an  eye  for  an  eye, 
a  tooth  for  a  tooth,  is  the  law  of  the  Gospel? — And 
how  is  this  to  be  accounted  for,  but  that  the  Noble 
Lord  does  not  believe  in  the  law  of  retaliation;  al- 
though founded  upon  that  Christian-like  principle  of 
returning  good  for  evil?  He  does  not  therefore  believe 
in  the  Gospel" 

Now,  Sir,  I  verily  believe,  that  there  is  not  a  Cler- 
gyman in  the  United  States,  who,  however  studious, 
or  however  advanced  in  years,  knew,  before  his  Lord- 
ship discovered  it,  that  "an  eye  for  an  eye,  a  tooth  for 
a  tooth,  was  the  law  of  the  Gospel;"  or  "that  the  law 
of  retaliation  is  founded  on  that  Christian-like  princi- 
ple of  returning  good  for  evil."  In  this  land  of  bar- 
barism it  has  been  supposed,  that  the  principle  of  re- 
turning good  for  evil  was,  in  reality,  a  Christian  prin- 
ciple; and  of  very  serious  importance  in  the  system  of 
the  Gospel;  and  not  merely  "Christian-like."  But 
what,  better  than  this,  could  be  expected  in  these 
Transatlantic  regions? 

It  is  time  that  these  extracts  should  be  terminated. 
Let  me  ask,  Sir,  what  are  we  to  think  of  the  morals, 
what  of  the  honour,  cherished  by  the  Members  of  your 
House  of  Commons,  when  we  read,  in  the  Parliamen- 
tary Chronicle  for  1796,  the  debate  on  the  franking  of 
letters;  and  find  it  publicly  averred  by  the  Minister  as 
a  reason  for  curtailing  this  privilege  of  the  Members, 
that  they  were  in  the  habit  of  farming  it  out  at  the 
highest  price,  and  thus  shamelessly  defrauded  the 
Revenue;  when  we  find  a  law  passed,  that  no  Member 


124  Lord  Cochrane. 

shall  frank  more  than  ten  letters,  or  receive  more  than 
fifteen,  in  one  day,  and  that  all  above  this  number 
shall  be  charged  to  him?  What  are  we  to  suppose, 
when  in  another  section  of  the  same  law,  we  find 
Members  forbidden  to  frank  letters  at  any  Post 
Office,  which  is  more  than  twenty  jive  miles  distant 
from  fhe  places,  where  they  severally  were  on  the  day 
of  franking;  and  when  in  another,  we  see  them  for- 
bidden to  delegate  their  right  of  franking  to  more 
than  one  individual  at  a  time? 

Look  at  the  case  of  Sir  Thomas  Cochrane,  com- 
monly called  Lord  Cochrane,  a  member  of  your 
House  of  Commons.  While  your  abuse  of  our  Con- 
gress was  yet  issuing  from  the  press,  this  man  was  im- 
peached for  a  swindling  conspiracy;  that  is,  he  was 
charged  with  conspiring  with  his  cousin  the  Honoura- 
ble Cochrane  Johnston,  and  others,  to  fabricate  and 
circulate  a  false  report  with  a  view  to  profit  by  a  sud- 
den rise  in  the  funds;  and,  after  fabricating  and  circu- 
lating such  a  report,  with  having  in  connexion  with 
his  associates,  sold  out  stocks,  which  had  been  purchas- 
ed for  that  very  purpose,  to  the  amount  of  nearly  a 
million  sterling;  thereby  putting  in  their  own  pockets 
twenty  or  thirty  thousand  pounds,  which  they  had 
thus  filched  from  the  pockets  of  unsuspecting  pur- 
chasers, Of  this  crime  he  wras  impeached  by  a  large 
committee,  who  were  appointed  to  examine  into  the 
circumstances  of  the  case,  and  who  published  to  the 
world  their  names,  and  the  reasons  on  which  their 
opinion  was  founded.  He  then  published,  under  the 
solemnity  of  an  oath,  a  full,  positive,  and  unequivocal 
assertion  of  his  innocence.  Still  he  was  indicted  by  a 
grand  jury,  brought  before  your  Court  of  King's 
Bench  as  a  culprit,  found  guilty  by  a  petit  jury,  and 


Lord  Ccchrane.  125 

sentenced  by  the  Court  to  be  fined,  imprisoned,  and 
stand  one  hour  in  the  pillory,  in  one  of  the  most  pub- 
lic streets  of  London.  At  the  opening  of  Parliament, 
and  before  the  House  had  time  to  expel  him,  he  grossly 
abused  the  persons  who  had  impeached  him,  the  jury 
who  had  found  him  guilty,  and  the  judge  who  had 
sentenced  him.  He  was,  however,  soon  expelled;  but 
the  tale  does  not  end  here:  you  would  rejoice  if  it  did 
As  his  place  was  vacant,  writs  were  issued  for  a  new 
election.  Lord  Cochrane  had  the  hardihood  to  offer 
himself  as  a  candidate;  he  addressed  the  electors;  he 
bawled  as  loudly  as  ever,  I  presume,  against  corrup- 
tion; he  assumed  that  he  was  one  of  the  genuine 
friends  of  the  People;  and,  can  it  be  believed!  was  re- 
turned as  a  Member  of  the  House  of  Commons,  by  a 
majority  of  electors  in  a  populous  part  of  your  proud 
metropolis.  He  of  course  takes  his  seat,  and  both 
votes  and  debates,  if  he  pleases,  on  all  questions  relat- 
ing to  the  public  maintenance  of  religion,  to  good 
morals^  and  good  government.  Either  Lord  Coch- 
rane is  guilty  of  one  of  the  vilest  frauds,  of  a  gross 
perjury  in  order  to  conceal  it,  and  of  gross  slander  of 
those,  who  impeached,  condemned,  and  expelled  him, 
or  your  honourable  merchants,  your  boasted  courts 
and  juries,  and  your  national  Legislature,  have  most 
iniquitously  proscribed  and  punished  an  innocent  man, 
of  high  standing  in  society.  I  mention  this  alternative, 
not  because  I  have  doubts  respecting  his  guilt;  but 
merely  to  show,  that  there  is  no  possible  way  of  evad- 
ing the  disgrace  attached  to  this  transaction. 

Such  things  could  not  take  place  in  this  country, 

while  our  present  standard  of  morals  remains.     It  has 

been  remarked  by  judicious  men,  here,  that  no  person 

could  retain  a  particle  of  influence,  even  amon^  the 

17 


1 26        Decency  of  the  British  Parliament 

lowest  and  worst  classes  of  the  community,  after  ha 
had  been  legally  convicted  of  an  infamous  crime. 
Our  villains,  particularly  those  in  high  life,  are  obliged 
to  abscond  when  detected,  even  before  conviction. 
Your  Wilkeses  and  your  Cochranes,  though  known 
to  be  infamously  vile  by  every  intelligent  man;  though 
tried  as  malefactors,  condemned,  punished,  and  ex- 
pelled the  House  of  Commons;  are  yet  taken  up  by 
the  people,  made  the  idols  of  a  party,  again  returned 
to  Parliament,  where  with  unparalleled  effrontery  they 
not  only  look  honourable  men  in  the  face,  but  take 
an  active  part  m  legislating  for  a  great  nation. 

Once  more,  Sir,  let  me  ask,  What  are  we  to  think  of 
the  decency,  with  which  the  debates  of  your  Parliament 
are  conducted,  when  in  the  House  of  Commons,  we  hear 
Mr.  Burke  (April  J  794,)  comparing  the  River  Scheldt 
to  the  filthiest  of  all  utensils,  and  that  by  name;  or 
-when,  in  the  House  of  Lords,  we  hear  the  Earl  of 
Mansfield  translate  the  words  Sans  Culotte,  used  as 
an  adjective,  by  the  grossest  phraseology,  which  he 
could  have  derived  from  a  dog-kennel.  These  mea 
were  the  lights  of  your  country;  and  made  Europe, 
and  even  these  Transatlantic  regions,  resound  with 
their  fame.  If  such  things  were  done  by  your  leaders; 
what  must  we  suppose  to  have  been  done  by  their 
followers? 

To  finish  my  remarks  concerning  your  Parliament, 
I  observe,  that  the  most  disgraceful  Member  of  our 
Congress,  (and  we  have  had  several,  who  were  suffi- 
ciently disgraceful,)  fell  immeasurably  behind  the 
famous  John  Elwcs,  three  times  returned  as  a  Mem- 
ber to  your  Parliament.  Look  at  this  man,  Sir,  then 
in  the  possession  of  near  800,00^  pounds  sterling,, 
after  having  expended  eighteen  pence  for  his  election,. 


John  Elwes.  127 

netting  out  from  his  seat  on  horseback,  witht\vo  hard- 
foiled  eggs  in  his  pocket;  shunning  carefully  every 
turnpike  road  lest  he  should  be  obliged  to  pay  the  fare; 
stopping  under  a  hedge;  feeding  his  horse  upon  the  grass 
in  the  road,  and  himself  upon  the  egg;  wearing  a  wig, 
cast  off  by  a  beggar,  and  picked  up  by  himself  out  oi 
a  kennel;  and  following  from  morning  to  night  the 
carpenters,  who  were  repairing  his  houses.    View  him 
again  at  his  own  seat,  mending  his  windows  with  a 
•piece  pf  broken  glass,  or  a  bit  of  brown  paper;  glean- 
ing corn  out  of  his  tenants'   fields;  picking  up  stray 
chips,  and  bones,  to  carry  to  the  fire  in  his  pocket; 
-pulling  down  a  crow's  nest,  to  add  to  his  slock  of  fuel; 
and   then  complaining    of  the   extravagance,   and 
waste,  with  which  these  creatures  built  their  nests. 
See  him  again,  stealing  into  the  stable,  and  taking 
away  the  hay,  which  his  servant  had  given  to  tht 
horse  of  a  friend  who  visited  him;  eating  corrupt- 
ed  meat,  and  the  animals  which  had  been  bred  in 
it;  and  devouring  the  small  fry,  taken  by  his  net,  in- 
-stead  of  replacing  them  in  the  river  until  they  should 
be  grown,  because  he  should  never  see  them  again 
Behold  him  hiding  his  money,  wrapped  up,  a  few 
guineas  in  a  paper,  and  deposited  in  corners,  and  other 
secret  places;  and  rising  by  night,  as  well  as  watching 
by  day,  to  see  whether  it  had  been  stolen.     Finally, 
mark  this  man,  then  worth  a  million  sterling,  and  ,ou 
ihe  verge  of  death,  crying  out  in  his  sleep,  "I  will 
keep  my  property:  no  man  shall  rob  meofmy  pi^operty." 
When  you  have  done  this,  muster,  for  a  review,  all 
that  has  been  contemptible  in  the  Congress  of  the 
United  States;  and  say  whether  you  believe,  that  an- 
other such  human  being  was  ever  born  out  of  Great 
Britain 


128  Conjugal  Infidelity. 

There  is  another  subject  intimately  connected  with 
your  Government,  much  more  intimately  than  I 
could  wish,  which  demands  a  few  additional  remarks. 
"Your  Lordships  will  remember/5  said  the  Bishop  o( 
Rochester,  on  the  llth  of  March,  1796,  "that  you 
have  had  cases  before  you,  where  Ladies  of  high 
rank  have  been  guilty  with  their  menial  servants: 
if  they  are  to  be  entitled  to  settlements  upon  Divorce, 
what  is  it,  but  to  hold  forth  rewards  to  Postillions,  &c. 
to  debauch  their  Ladies?  There  have  been,  also  stated, 
cases,  where  the  usage  of  the  husband  has  been  plead- 
ed in  extenuation.  In  such  cases  the  proper  reme- 
dy will  be,  to  refuse  him  his  bill  of  Divorce;  where, 
for  instance,  an  old  and  debilitated  man  courted  a 
young  girl  to  his  arms,  he  ought  to  abide  the  event, 
for  he  takes  her,  'with  his  eyes  open  to  the  conse- 
quences. In  the  particular  case  before  us,  I  see  noth- 
ing that  can  be  urged  in  mitigation; — an  old  woman, 
forty  years  of  age,  having  ten  children,  took  to  her 
bed  a  Scoundrel  of  a  French  Emigrant" 

This,  Sir,  is  a  most  melancholy  story;  as  the  sub- 
ject of  it  is  a  most  disgraceful  theme  of  legislative  de- 
liberation: disgraceful,  I  mean,  not  to  the  Legislature, 
but  to  the  country,  which  has  made  the  debate  ne- 
cessary. Happily  for  New  England,  this  story  can- 
not, so  far  as  my  knowledge  extends,  be  told  of  its 
inhabitants.  No  similar  occurrence,  within  the  limits 
of  my  information,  has  been  found  here.  In  two  of 
the  New  England  States,*  there  are  laws  permitting 
Divorces  by  their  Supreme  Judicial  Courts:  laws,  im- 
measurably dishonourable  to  those  States,  and  fitted 
only  to  diffuse  pollution.  Yet  such  is  the  character 

*  Connecticut  and  Vermont, 


Conjugal  Infidelity.  121* 

of  the  New  England  people,  that  even  these  laws 
have  hitherto  drawn  no  such  cases,  as  those  mention 
ed  by  the  good  Bishop,  in  their  train.  Should  they 
continue  in  force,  there  can  be  no  reasonable  doubt. 
that  their  consequences  will  be  baleful  to  the  purity  oi 
individuals,  the  peace  of  families,  and  the  welfare  oi 
the  public.  Hitherto,  their  effects,  although  only  per- 
nicious, have  been  very  limited. 

With  you,  Sir,  this  most  malignant  species  of  cor- 
ruption is  of  long  standing;  and  appears  to  have  per* 
vaded  your  country  throughout  its  early,  as  well  as  its 
later  history.  A  great  part  of  your  Comedies,  and  of 
your  Novels,  a  multitude  of  your  Songs,  and  other 
Poems,  and  many  other  still  graver  Publications,  have 
been  scandalously  obscene  and  polluted.*  A  God* 
win,  defending  gravely  his  licentious  concubinage  with 
a  Wolstoncrajt,  would,  here,  have  been  hissed  in  the? 
streets  by  the  inhabitants  of  every  village,  through 
which  he  passed. 

This  evil  spreads  throughout  a  great  part  of  the 
higher  classes  in  your  country.  It  enters  the  palace: 
often  it  has  ascended  the  throne.  Look  over  one  oi 
your  Court  Registers;  and  see  whether  you  cannot. 
find  proofs  of  it  in  the  very  names  of  your  Dukes 
Look  at  your  present  Royal  Family;  at  the  history  ol 
Mrs.  Clarke.  But  I  will  stop:  for,  although  you  have 
driven  me  to  these  remarks,  I  have  no  pleasure  in  less- 
ening the  reputation  of  your  Royal  Family. 

Perhaps,  Sir,  a  plea  may  be  made  for  this  licen- 
tiousness by  some  others  of  your  countrymen,  which 
has  already  been  made  by  the  Edinburgh  Re- 
viewers. 


*  I  have  never  known  an  obscene  book  publishg;!  in  lly-  American 


130  The  Edinburgh  Review. 

"The  passion  of  Monarchs  for  their  Mistresses/" 
says  a  writer  in  the  forty-fourth  number  of  that  re- 
doubtable Work,  ''-is  not  always  fatal  to  their  own 
honour,  or  to  the  happiness  of  their  people.  La  Belle 
Gabriel  le,  Madame  de  la  Valliere,  and  other  in- 
stances, might  be  quoted  in  favour  of  this  opinion, 
But  the  monarchs,  and  their  mistresses,  were  of  that 
age,  when  a  mutual  passion  gave  to  each  a  para- 
mount interest  in  the  glory  and  happiness  of  the  oth- 
er The  moment,  when  a  nation  most  dreads  and 
abhors  the  dominion  of  a  mistress,  is  when  they  see 
in  it  the  result  of  luxurious  habits,  rather  than  of  pas- 
sion— the  feverish  want  of  a  decayed  constitution; 
rather  than  the  honest  demands  of  nature  and  imag- 
ination." 

Pray,  Sir,  is  not  the  Conductor  of  the  Edinburgh 
Review  a  descendant  of  those  cattle,  who,  according 
to  Lord  Monboddo,  were  the  first  ancestors  of  the  hu- 
man race;  who  wore  tails,  and  lived  in  the  near  neigh- 
bourhood of  our  Cousin  Ourang  Outangs?  I  presume 
his  Lordship  must  have  formed  this  part  of  his  Philo- 
sophical System  under  impressions  made  upon  his  mind 
by  the  appearance,  and  character,  of  those  around  him, 
He  must  have  seen,  1  think,  mental  characteristics, 
which,  he  supposed,  ought  to  belong  to  those  only,  who 
had  once  worn  tails;  and  their  appearance  was  probably 
such,  as  induced  him  to  believe,  that  they  had  not 
long  been  freed  from  this  ornamental  appendage. 
This  Conductor  was,  I  suppose,  born  in  the  vicinity  of 
his  Lordship:  and,  if  the  proper  investigation  were  to 
be  made,  it  would,  I  presume,  be  found,  that  the  tail  had 
hitely  fallen  oft" from  the  man,  or  that  the  man  had  fall- 
en off  from  his  tail:  for  it  is  doubtful  which  was  the 


The  Edinburgh  Review  131 

principal  part  of  the  composition,  To  this  conclusion 
I  am  irresistibly  led  by  the  paragraph,  which  has  just 
been  quoted.  "The passion  of  Monarchs  for  their 
mistresses  is  not  always  fatal  io  their  own  honour,  or 
to  the  happiness  of  their  peoplel"  Very  honourable, 
indeed,  must  be  the  character  of  that  Monarch,  who 
is  an  adulterer;  and  great  the  happiness  of  his  people., 
especially  of  those,  who  are  intelligent  and  virtuous^ 
when  they  find  this  to  be  his  character.  "The  moment, 
when  a  nation  most  dreads,  and  abhors,  the  dominion 
of  a  mistress,  is  when  they  see  in  it  the  result  of  luxu- 
rious habits,  rather  than  of  passion;  the  feverish 
want  of  a  decayed  constitution,  rather  than  the  honest 
demands  of  nature  and  imagination"  Lewdness 
then,  it  seems,  that  putrefaction  of  the  human  mind; 
that  sin  of  Sodom;  that  sin,  to  pour  upon  which  the 
vengeance  of  an  angry  God,  an  angel  summoned  from 
heaven  a  storm  of  fire  and  brimstone,  and  emptied  its- 
terrible  magazines  of  destruction  upon  that  abandon^ 
ed  city;  le\vdncss,  raised  to  the  infamous  excess  of 
adultery;  lewdncss,  changed  into  an  incurable  habit. 
of  adultery;  faced  with  bronze;  and,  in  an  open, 
shameless  concubinage,  proclaiming  to  the  world  its 
indelible,  and  hopeless  infamy;''  is,  What?  "  The  Iwn- 
cst  demands  of  nature  and  imagination"  Such  is 
the  decision  of  this  Reviewer  of  Sodom.  What  is  the 
sentence  of  his  Creator?  Of  the  strange  woman  he 
says,  "None,  that  go  in  unto  her,  turn  again;  neither 
take  they  hold  of  the  paths  of  life.55 

Surely,  Sir,  these  declarations  of  Mr.  Jeffrey  could 
have  come  from  the  mouth  of  no  man,  except  a  de- 
scendant from  this  ancient  and  honourable  family. 
The  brute  must  have  predominated,  in  the  writer, 
over  the  man;  and  held  the  pen,  as  well  as  controlled 


182  Jeffrey  and  Lord  Byroii. 

the  heart,  when  this  effusion  of  animalism  was  pour 
ed  out  upon  the  world. 

I  have  some  knowledge  of  this  man,  Sir.  He  for- 
nierly  wrote  a  criticism  on  Lord  Bijrori's  "Hours  of 
Idleness,"  in  which  are  found  the  following  observa- 
tions. 

"The  poesy  of  this  young  Lord  belongs  to  the  class, 
which  neither  Gods  nor  men  are  said  to  permit.  In- 
deed, we  do  not  recollect  to  have  seen  a  quantity  of 
verse,  with  so  few  deviations  from  that  exact  stand- 
ard. His  effusions  are  spread  over  a  dead  flat,  and 
can  no  more  get  above  or  below  the  level,  than  if  they 
were  so  much  stagnant  water.77 

Again.  "With  this  view  we  must  beg  leave  seri- 
ously to  assure  him,  that  the  mere  rhyming  of  the 
final  syllable,  even  when  accompanied  by  the  presence 
of  a  certain  number  of  Jeef;  nay,  although  (which 
does  not  always  happen)  those  feet  should  scan  regu- 
larly, and  have  been  all  accurately  counted  on  thefin- 
gers — is  not  the  whole  art  of  poetry.  We  should  en- 
treat him  to  believe,  that  a  certain  portion  of  liveli- 
ness, somewhat  of  fancy,  is  necessary  to  constitute  a 
poem;  and  that  a  poem  in  the  present  day,  to  be  read, 
must  contain  at  least  one  thought,  either  in  a  little  de- 
gree different  from  the  ideas  of  former  writers^  or 
differently  expressed" 

And  again.  "But  whatever  judgment  may  be  pass- 
ed on  the  poems  of  this  noble  minor,  it  seems  we  must 
take  them  as  we  find  them:  for  they  are  the  last  we 
shall  ever  have  from  him."  [Poor  Jeffrey!  Happy, 
thrice  happy  wrouldest  thou  have  been,  had  thy  pre- 
diction been  fulfilled.]  "Therefore  we  must  take 
what  we  get,  and  be  thankful.  What  right  have  we, 
poor  devils,  to  be  nice?  We  are  well  off  to  have  got 


Byron  and  Jeffrey* 

so  much  from  a  man  of  this  Lord's  station,  who  does 
not  lire  in  a  garret,  but  4ihas  the  sway"  of  Newstead 
Abbey.  Again,  we  say,  Let  us  be  thankful;  and 
with  honest  Sancho,  bid  God  bless  the  giver,  nor  look 
the  gift-horse  in  the  mouth." 

But  alas!  Lord  Byron  would  not  let  the  prophecy 
be  fulfilled.  In  an  ill-omened  hour,  when,  I  presume, 
the  Raven  was  heard  to  flap  his  wing;  and  the 
Screech-Owl,  lodged  in  the  hollow  of  some  oracular 
oak,  uttered  her  shrill  ^tnd  melancholy  cries;  the  No- 
ble  bard,  moved  by  Jeffrey's  evil  genius,  wrote  the 
following  cauterizing  verses. 

"Health  to  immortal  Jeffrey!  once,  in  name, 
England  could  boast  a  judge  almost  the  same, 
In  soul  so  like,  so  merciful,  yet  just, 
Some  think  that  Satan  had  resigned  his  trust, 
And  given  the  spirit  to  the  world  again, 
To  sentence  letters,  as  he  sentenced  men. 
With  hand  less  mighty,  but  with  heart  as  black, 
With  voice,  as  willing  to  decree  the  rack; 
Bred  in  the  court  betimes,  though  all,  that  law 
As  yet  hath  taught  him,  is  to  find  a  flaw. 
Since  well  instructed  in  the  patriot  school 
To  rail  at  party,  though  a  party  tool, 
Who  knows?  if  chance  his  patrons  should  restore 
Back  to  the  sway,  they  forfeited  before, 
His  scribbling  toils  some  recompense  may  meet; 
And  raise  this  Daniel  to  the  judgment  seat- 
JL,et  Jeffries9  shade  indulge  the  pious  hope, 
And  greeting  thus,  present  him  with  a  rope: 
"Heir  to  my  virtues!  man  of  equal  mind! 
Skill'd  to  condemn,  as  to  traduce  Mankind, 
This  cord  receive!  for  thee  rescrv'd  with  care, 
To  wield  in  judgment,  and  at  length  to  wtar." 

"Health  to  great  Jeffrey!  Heaven  preserve  his  life^ 
To  flourish  on  the  fertile  shores  of  Fife, 
18 


134  Lord  Byron  and  Jeffrey. 

And  guard  it  sacred  in  his  future  wars, 
Since  authors  sometimes  seek  the  field  of  Mara! 
Can  none  remember  that  eventful  day, 
That  ever  glorious,  almost  fatal  fray, 
When  Little's  leadless  pistol  met  his  eye, 
And  Bow-street  myrmidons  stood  laughing  by? 
Oh!  day  disastrous!  on  her  firm-set  rock, 
Dunedin's  castle  felt  a  secret  shock; 
Dark  rolled  the  sympathetic  waves  of  Forth, 
Low  groan'd  the  startled  whirlwinds  of  the  North, 
Tweed  ruffled  half  his  waves  to  form  a  tear, 
The  other  half  pursued  its  calm  career; 
Arthur's  steep  summit  nodded  to  its  base, 
And  surly  Tolbooth  scarcely  kept  her  place^ 
The  Tolbooth  felt,  for  marble  sometimes  can, 
On  such  occasions  feel  as  much  as  man—- 
The Tolbooth  felt  defrauded  of  her  charms, 
If  Jeffrey  died,  except  within  her  arms; 
Kay,  last  not  least,  on  that  portentous  mom 
The  sixteenth  story,  where  himself  was  born, 
His  patrimonial  garret  fell  to  ground, 
And  pale  Edina  shuddered  at  the  sound; 
Strew'd  were  the  streets  around  with  milk-white 
Flowed  all  the  Canon-gate  with  inky  streams; 
This  of  his  candour  seemed  the  sable  dew; 
That  of  his  valour  show'd  the  bloodless  hue; 
And  all  with  justice  deem'd  the  two  combin'd 
The  mingjed  emblems  of  his  mighty  mind. 
But  Caledonia's  goddess  hovered  o'er 
The  field,  and  saved  him  from  the  wrath  of  Moor?j 
From  either  pistol  snatched  the  vengeful  lead, 
And  straight  restored  it  to  her  favourite's  head. 
The  head,  with  greater  than  magnetic  power, 
Caught  it  as  Danae  caught  the  golden  shower, 
And,  though  the  thickening  dross  will  scarce  refine, 
Augments  it's  ore,  and  is  itself  a  mine. 
"My  son,*'  she  cried,  "ne'er  thirst  for  gore  again, 
Resign  the  pistol,  and  resume  the  pen; 
O'er  politics  and  poesy  preside; 
ppast  of  thy  country,  and  Brittannia's  guide! 


Lord  Byron  and  Jeffrey,  135 

For  long  as  Albion's  heedless  sons  submit, 
Or  Scottish  taste  decides  on  English  wit, 
So  long  shall  last  thine  unmolested  reign, 
Nor  any  dare  to  take  thy  name  in  vain."  : 

What  was  the  consequence  oi  this  stinging  applica- 
tion to  the  sensibilities  of  the  redoubtable  Reviewer? 
Learn  it  from  his  own  words,  in  a  subsequent  Review 
on  ^Broughton's  Letters  from  a  Mahratta  Camp:" 
October,  1813. 

"To  publish  verses  is  become  a  sort  of  evidence, 
that  a  man  wants  sense:  which  is  repelled  not  by 
writing  good  verses,  but  by  writing  excellent  verses; — 
by  doing  what  Lord  Byron  has  done; — by  displaying 
talents,  great  enough  to  overcome  the  disgust,  which 
proceeds  from  satiety,  and  showing  that  all  things  may 
become  new  under  the  reviving  touch  of  genius" 

Pray,  Sir,  what  do  you  think,  was  the  reason  of 
this  wonderful  change?  Whence  was  it,  that  a  Poet, 
whose  effusions  were  spread  over  a  dead  flat,  and 
could  no  more  get  above  or  below  the  level  than  if 
they  had  been  so  much  stagnant  water"  all  at  once 
"possessed  talents,  great  enough  to  overcome  the  dis- 
gust, which  proceeds  from  satiety,  and  showed  that 
all  things  may  become  new  under  the  reviving  touch 
of  Genius?"  The  answer  to  these  queries  is  at  hand. 
The  Noble  Poet  had  brandished  his  cat-o'-nine  tails 
with  such  force  and  dexterity,  that  this  descendant 
of  the  ancient  family  feels  the  tingling  to  the  present 
hour.  Rely  upon  it,  Sir,  there  was  never  one  of  this 
breed,  who  could  be  operated  upon,  to  any  valuable 
purpose,  in  any  other  manner.  Insolent,  and  abusive, 
to  all  other  men;  barking  at  every  stranger,  whom 
they  see;  they  will  instantly  drop  their  ears,  and 


136          Jeffrey  a  mm  °f  Consideration. 

smooth  their  shag,  at  the  sight,  and  peculiarly  under 
the  administration,  of  a  switch. 

When  this  man,  (I  would  fain  call  him  a  gentle- 
man if  I  could  do  it  with  a  clear  conscience,)  was  in 
the  United  States,  a  little  while  since,  having  with  Mr. 
Madison  the  reputation  of  being  a  thorough-going 
Jacobin,  he  was  permitted  to  charter  a  ship,  and  re- 
turn with  it  to  Europe:  a  privilege,  repeatedly  refuse^ 
by  our  liberal  minded  Government  to  native  Ameri- 
cans, of  unimpeachable  character.  On  board  this 
ship  Col.  Barclay  proposed  to  send  back  to  their  na- 
tive country  a  number  of  British  prisoners.  His 
right  to  do  this  was  not  disputed  by  our  Champion; 
but  he  insisted,  that  he  himself  would  select  the  per- 
sons. The  Consul  coolly  told  him,  that  this  could  not 
be  permitted;  but  that  they  must  be  received  accord- 
ing to  their  equitable  claims.  Our  Reviewer  replied 
by  way  of  answer  to  Col.  Barclay's  declaration;  "Sir, 
I  am  a  man  of  Consideration  in  my  own  country. 
In  my  own  couutry,  Sir,  I  am  a  man  of  Considera- 
tion." 

I  did  not  for  some  time  conjecture  what  was  the 
meaning  of  this  interesting  declaration,  I  knew  that 
our  Champion  was  a  lawyer  by  profession,  and 
thought,  that,  perhaps  he  might  be  a  lawyer  af  some 
eminence.  But  Lord  Byron  has  said,  and  it  is  pre- 
sumed, that  no  man,  within  the  reach  of  his  cat-o'  nine- 
tails,  will  dare  to  deny  it;  certainly  not  our  Reviewer--* 


."All,  that  law 


As  yet  hath  taught  him,  is  to  find  a  flaw," 

In  this  quandary  I  alighted  upon  the  story  of  our 
Reviewer's  duel  with  Anacreon  Moore,  alluded  to  in 


Jeffrey  a  man  of  Consideration.  1ST 

the  quotation  above;  which  dispelled  my  perplexity  at 
once.  These  two  Champions  of  the  quill,  it  seems, 
after  a  most  chivalrous  rencontre  with  their  proper 
weapons,  and  making  most  formidable  discharges  of 
ink  at  each  other,  resolved  to  try  their  luck  with 
weapons,  in  the  use  of  which  they  were  not  such  vete- 
rans. Accordingly,  they  appeared  one  morning  at 
Chalk  Farm;  each  with  a  brace  of  pistols.  The  Bow- 
street  officers,  having  smelt  the  rat,  were  on  the  ground 
almost  as  soon,  as  the  champions;  and  stayed,  rudely 
I  presume,  all  further  proceedings.  These  interlopers 
had  the  curiosity  to  examine  the  pistols,  and  found 
them  absolutely  bulletless.  "Now,  Sir,  it  was  "con- 
sideration" only;  (I  protest  against  every  suspicion, 
that  it  was  want  of  courage;)  1  say  it  was  "considera- 
tion" only,  that  induced  Mr.  Jeffrey  and  Mr.  Moore 
to  fight  a  duel  without  bullets. 

Thus,  Sir,  our  Reviewer  was  "a  man  of  Considera- 
tion in  his  own  country:"  and,  had  he  fought  a  duel 
here;  he  would  undoubtedly  have  been  "a  man  of  Con- 
sideration," also,  in  the  United  States. 

I  will  close  my  business  with  Mr.  Jeffrey,  for  the 
present,  by  subjoining  one  more  quotation  from  Lord 
Byron.  It  is  from  the  Postscript  to  his  English  Bards 
and  Scotch  Reviewers."  As  Mr.  Jeffrey  has  long 
since  determined,  that  the  Americans  are  destitute  of 
genius,  he  certainly  cannot  find  fault  with  us  for  mak- 
ing the  best  use  we  can  of  British  genius,  in  our  OWE. 
defence.  "My  northern  friends,"  says  his  Lordship, 
"have  accused  me,  with  justice,  of  personality  towards 
their  great  literary  Anthropophagus.  Jeffrey,  but  what 
else  was  to  be  done  with  him,  and  his  dirty  pack,  who 
feed  by  ulying  and  slandering,"  and  s;ake  their  thirst 
by  "evil  speaking?"  I  have  stated  facts  already 


138          Language  of  the  United  States. 

known,  and  of  Jeffrey's  mind,  I  have  stated  my  free 
opinion:  nor  has  he  thence  sustained  any  injury. 
What  scavenger  was  ever  soiled  by  being  pelted  with 
mudf 

Your  next  attack,  after  quoting  a  paragragh  in 
the  New  England  Palladium,  advertising  a  stolen 
book;*  and  making  a  few  observations  upon  the  im- 
propriety of  garbling  editions  of  your  books,  and  alter- 
ing some  of  your  plays,  so  as  to  suit  the  American 
taste;  is  upon  the  Language  of  the  United  States. 
By  the  way,  do  none  of  your  countrymen  ever  steal 
books?  If  they  do  not;  and  we  are  to  believe  "CoZ- 
quLourfs.  Police  of  London"  and  his  "Police  of  the 
Thames;"  books  are  the  only  things,  which  some  or 
other  of  them  do  not  steal.  Here  you  accuse  us  of 
forming  projects  to  get  rid  of  the  English  language; 
"not,"  you  say,  "merely  by  barbarizing  it,  but  by  abol- 
ishing it  altogether,  and  substituting  a  new  language  of 
our  own."  As  specimens, you  inform  us,  that  "one  per- 
son had  recommended  the  adoption  of  the  Hebrew;  and 
another,  a  Scotchman,  of  the  name  of  Thornton,  had 
projected  to  murder  the  English  orthography  by  turn- 
ing the  e  topsy-turvy,  dotting  the  i  underneath,  and 
adding  a  few  pothooks  and  ladles,  &c."  Pray,  Sir, 
do  you  think  this  story  was  worth  telling?  Do  you 
believe  the  application  of  it  to  the  people  of  the  United 
States  just?  If  not;  can  you  vindicate  yourself  from 
the  charge  of  dishonesty  in  insinuating,  that  they  were 
concerned  in  such  a  project?  From  you  have  I  first 
learned  the  existence  of  either  of  those  projects:  and  I 
presume,  that  ninety-nine,  out  of  a  hundred,  and 

*  Were  I  to  glean  the  English  character  from  the  London  newspapers,  by 
picking  out  the  scandalous  articles,  it  would  shame  even  slander  herself  to 
repeat  it 


Language  of  the  United  States.  139 

more  probably  nine  hundred  and  ninety-nine,  Out  of 
a  thousand,  Americans,  never  heard  of  either. 

Are  there  no  foolish  projects  in  Great  Britain^ 
Did  not  good  Bishop  Wilkms  project  a  scheme  to 
fly?  And  are  there  not  other  Scotchmen,  beside 
Thornton,  who  have  acted  like  fools?  Why,  because 
this  stupid  Scotchman  crossed  the  Atlantic,  and  had  no 
more  sense  than  to  publish  these  effusions  of  weakness 
here,  are  his  silly  dreams  to  be  imputed  to  the  people  of 
the  United  States.  We  are  as  little  disposed  to  change 
our  language  as  you  can  be. 

But  you  charge  us  with  making  some  words,  and 
using  others  in  a  peculiar  sense;  and  recite  a  short 
list,  belonging  to  both  these  classes.  Among  others 
the  word,  guess,  which  has  been  mentioned  by  almost 
every  Englishman,  who  has  -undertaken  to  criticise 
on  our  speech.  To  the  first  mention  of  it,  or  even  the 
second,  or  third,  I  had  no  objection.  The  hundredth 
became  wearisome.  We  use  the  word,  guess,  exactly 
as  you  do;  with  this  single  exception;  that  a  moderate 
number  of  our  vulgar  people  employ  it  as  a  cant  word; 
and  with  full  as  much  propriety,  as  vulgar  English- 
men, and  not  a  small  number,  who  would  disdain  to 
be  reckoned  among  the  vulgar,  use  damned  and 
devilish. 

But  "the  President  of  Yale  College  talks  of  a  conjla- 
grative  brand,  and  President  Jefferson,  of  belittling 
the  productions  of  nature"  Be  it  so.  The  members 
of  your  Parliament,  on  the  floor  of  debate,  use  the  dig- 
nified words,  diddled  and  gullibility. 

We  retain  some  words y  'which  you  have  dropped; 
and  you  retain  some,  which  we  have  dropped.  We  have 
made  a  small  number  of  new  ones.  .You  have  made 


£40 


Language  of  the  City  of  London, 


ten  times  more.  Have  not  we  the  same  rights  in  this 
respect,  as  you?  If  we  have  not;  where  is  the  proof? 

On  this  subject  you  have  been  the  ra<w,andwe, 
the  Lion,  in  the  fable.  The  painting,  which  is  intend- 
ed t-j  prove  your  superiority,  and  our  degradation,  has 
hitherto  been  done  by  you.  It  is  time,  that  the  pencil 
had  changed  hands;  and  that  justice  should,  at  least  in 
a  single  instance,  be  done  to  us. 

The  natives  of  the  city  of  London  may  be  supposed 
to  use  English  as  well,  at  least,  as  your  people  at 
large.  Take  the  following  specimens  of  their  English 
from  Pegged  Anecdotes  of  the  English  Language. 

They  say 


Wulgularity      for 

Necessuated 

Curosity 

Unpossible 

Leastwise 

Shay 

Po-shay 

Aggravate 

A  conquest  (of  people) 

Commandement 

Attackted 

Gownd 

Partender 

Bachelder 

Obstropolous 

Argufy 

Scrupulosity 

Common- Garden 

Pee-aches 

Kjngsington 

Kiver 


Vulgarity, 

Necessitated, 

Curiosity, 

Impossible, 

At  least, 

Chaise, 

Post  chaise, 

Irritate, 

A  concourse, 

Commandment 

Attacked, 

Gown, 

Partner, 

Bachelor, 

Obstreperous, 

Signify, 

Scruple, 

Covent. 

Piazzas, 

Kensi  ngtoiK 

Cover, 


Language  of  the  City  of  London.  141 


Daater  for 

Saace 
Saacer 
Saacy 
Chimly 
Perdigious 
Progidy 
Contagious 

For  fraid  of,  instead  of 
Duberous 
Musicianer 
Squits 
Pillord 
Scrowdge 
Squeedge 

To  Anger  (a  verb) 
Whole-tote 
Vemon 
Vemonous 
Sermont 
Verment 
Palaretic 

Postes  and  posteses 
Sitti-ation 
Portingal 
Somewheres 
Oftens 
Nowheres 
Mislest 
Scholard 
Regiment 
Contrary 
Howsomdever 
Whatsomdever 
19 


Daughter, 

Sauce, 

Saucer, 

Saucy, 

Chimney, 

Prodigious, 

Prodigy, 

Contiguous, 

For  fear  of, 

Dubious, 

Musician, 

Quit, 

Pilloried, 

Crowd,  (the  verb.) 

Squeeze, 

To  make  angry, 

The  whole, 

Venom, 

Venomous, 

Sermon, 

Vermin, 

Paralytic, 

Posts, 

Situation, 

Portugal, 

Somewhere, 

Often, 

Nowhere, 

Molest, 

Scholar, 

Regimen, 

Conti  ary, 

However, 

Whatever, 


142  language  of  the  City  of  London, 


Successfully          for 

Mayoraltry 

Admiraltry 

Commonality 

Properietor,  owner 

Non-plush'd 

Unbethought 

Discommode 

Colloguing 

Docity 

Brownded 

Despisable 

An-otomy 

Faragraft 

Stagnated 

Disgruntled 

Ruinated 

Solentary 

Ingeniously 

Eminent  danger 

Intosticated 

Per  went 

Skri  midge 

Refuge 

Nisi  prisi 

Taters 

Vocation 

Luxurious 

Loveyer 

Humourous 

Pottecary 

Nyst  and  Nysler 

Clost  and  Closte: 

Sinst 


Successively^ 

Mayoralty, 

Admiralty, 

Commonaltyv 

Proprietor, 

Non-plus'd, 

Recollected, 

Incommode, 

Golleaguing, 

Docility, 

Drowned, 

Despicable, 

A  Skeleton, 

Paragraph, 

Stagger'd, 

Offended, 

Ruin'd, 

Solitary, 

Ingenuously, 

Imminent  dange? 

Intoxicated, 

Prevent, 

Skirmish, 

Refuse, 

Nisi  prius,  , 

Potatoes, 

Vacation, 

Luxuriant, 

Lover, 

Humoursome2 

Apothecary, 

Nice,  and  Nicer, 

Close,  and  Closer 

Since, 


Language  of  the  City  of  London.  143 


Wonst  for 

Industerous 

Sot 

Frags,  i.  e. 

Character 

Moral 

Jocotious  or  Jecotious 

Hisn,  Hern 

Ourn,  Yourn 

The  t'other 

Every  wheres, 

Any-vvheres, 

Any-hows, 

Some-hows, 

No-hows, 

Nolus  bolus    for 


Once, 

Industrious, 

Sat, 

Fragments, 

Character, 

Model, 

Jocose, 

His,  and  Her's, 

Ours,^and  Youre, 

The  other, 


Nolens  volens. 


Add  to  these  weal  for  veal,  winegar,  wictuals,  «8tc; 
and  vicked,  vig,  vind,  veather,  &c;  neighbourwocd, 
widowwood,  knightwood;  and  a  great  multitude  of 
others. 

Such,  Sir,  is  the  language,  daily  uttered  in  the  Me- 
tropolis of  Great  Britain.  "But  then,"  says  Mr. 
Pegge,  "every  body  understands  the  meaning  of  the 
Londoner^)  and  their  language  is  not  like  the  unintel- 
ligible gabble  of  nine  tenths  of  the  provincial  inhabit- 
ants of  the  remoter  parts  of  England,  which  none  but 
the  natives  can  understand.  Bring  together  two  clowns 
from  Kent  and  Yorkshire,  and  I  will  wager  a  ducat, 
ihat  they  will  not  be  able  to  converse,  for  want  of  a 
dialect,  common  to  them  both." 

Such  is  the  account,  which  a  mail  perfectly  versed 
:n  this  subject,  gives  in  a  letter  to  a  brother  Antiquari- 


144        Reviews  published  in  Great  Britain. 

an.  Its  correctness  you  will  not  dispute.  How  great 
a  part  of  the  English  nation  must  speak  miserable 
English:  For  Yorkshire  and  Kent  are  not  the  only 
counties,  which  furnish  specimens  of  unintelligible 
gabble.  Your  West- country  dialect  is  still  worse  than 
those  of  these  two  counties. 

In  the  United  States  there  is  not,  I  presume,  a  de- 
scendant of  English  ancestors,  whose  conversation  is 
not  easily,  and  perfectly  intelligible  to  every  other:  and 
nothing  like  a  dialect  can  be  found  in  this  country,  un- 
less you  call  by  this  name  the  German.,  Dutch,  and 
other  foreign  languages,  still  spoken  by  the  Colonists, 
derived  from  those  nations. 

Are  you  not  ashamed,  then,  with  these  facts  before 
you,  with  this  barbarous  jargon  sounding  in  your  ears, 
whenever  you  walk  through  the  streets  of  London, 
and  with  a  full  knowledge  of  the  unintelligible  gabble 
of  nine  tenths  of  your  provincial  inhabitants,  in  the 
parts  of  England  remote  from  London,  to  talk  with  so 
much  parade  about  our  blunders?  Were  you  to  spend 
your  life  in  this  country,  you  would  be  unable  to  make 
such  a  collection,  as  that  which  is  here  given  by  Mr. 
Pegge:  and  nothing,  remotely  resembling  the  language 
ascribed  by  this  author  to  your  provincial  inhabitants, 
can  be  found  in  this  country. 

I  will  now,  Sir,  proceed  to  the  consideration  of  one 
subject  more,  and  will  then  finish  my  remarks;  and 
that  is  the  Reviews  published  in  Great  Britain. 

"It  would,  however,  be  an  act  of  injustice  to  our 
readers,"  says  a  judicious  writer  in  the  Picture  of 
London,  published  in  1807,  "were  we  to  omit  to  no- 
tice in  this  place  the  gross  abuse  of  public  Confidence, 
and  the  imposition  on  credulity,  systematically  prac- 
tised by  the  Reviews,  and  other  anonymous  periodical 


Reviews  published  in  Great  Britain.         145 

works,   which   pretend  to   give  critical   opinions  on 
the  merit,  or  dement,  of  new  Publications. 

"While  these  professed  Oracles  of  literature  spoke 
ilie  language  of  good  manners,  and  confined  their 
observations  to  honest  remarks  on  the  contents  of  the 
books,  which  they  affected  to  notice,  they  deserved  a 
qualified  portion  of  public  confidence;  but  the  race  of 
Scurrility,  in  'which  they  have  lately  begun  to  emu- 
late each  other,  and  the  Insults,  which  they  add  ressfo 
the  persons,  and  private  characters,  of  Authors, 
have  rendered  them  at  once  a  disgrace  to  the  moral 
character  of  the  country;  a  gross  Abuse  of  tfie  liber- 
ties of  the  press;  a  scourge  of  genius;  and  a  Nuis 
ance to  literature" 

"On  ordinary  occasions  it  would  be  sufficient,  to 
refute  calumny,  to  state,  that  the  author  of  it  lurked  in 
concealment;  but  the  public  have  been  so  long  impos- 
ed upon  by  anonymous  critics,  and  anonymous  criti- 
cism has  so  long  been  received  without  suspicion  by 
the  unthinking,  that  it  will  be  necessary  to  pursue 
these  Critical  Assassins  to  their  Retreats,  and  to  ex- 
hibit clear  and  correct  views  of  the  description  of  per- 
sons, among  whom  they  are  to  be  found." 

"We  shall,  in  the  first  instance,  mention  as  a  point 
of  fact,  which  no  person  can  honestly  controvert,  that 
every  one  of  the  Reviews  published,  with  perhaps  not 
more  than  a  single  exception,  is  the  Property,  or  in 
the  pay,  of  some  Bookseller;  and  is  carried  on  for 
the  sole  purpose  of  praising  all  his  own  Publications 
and  of  damning,  and  vilifying  all  those  which  he  con 
siders  as  interfering  with  his  interests. 

"The  pretended  criticisms,  which   appear   in   these 
anonymous  publications,  thus  improperly  and  corrupt 
ly  influenced,  are  fabricated  in  some  of  the  following 


146         Reviews  published  m  G^eat  Britain. 

ways,  or  under  the  influence  of  some  of  the  following 
abuses. 

"1st.  By  rival  authors. — Persons,  who  have  them- 
selves written  on  the  subject,  treated  in  a  new  book, 
which  is  to  be  noticed,  being  supposed  by  the  conduc- 
tors of  Reviews  to  understand  the  point  better  than 
mere  general  scholars,  are  frequently  employed  to  re- 
view works  in  such  circumstances.  -  This  is  the  best., 
and  perhaps  the  most  impartial,  judgment  which  an 
author  ever  obtains;  and  a  Critique  by  a  writer  on 
the  same  subject  always  commands  in  the  arrangement 
of  a  Review  a  place  of  distinction.  It  need  scarcely  be 
stated,  that  an  author  seldom  undertakes  to  write  an 
anonymous  critique  on  a  rival  publication,  who  at  the 
same  time  is  not  unprincipled  enough  to  vent  all  his 
envy  and  malice  against  the  book,  and  the  person,  of 
his  rival;  mean  enough,  also,  to  quote  his  own  work, 
with  applause;  and  impudently  contrast  it  with  the 
new  one.  One,  at  least,  of  such  articles  appears  in 
every  Review,  that  is  published;  but  it  generally  car- 
ries with  it  characteristic  marks  of  jealousy  and  alarm, 
which  render  it  easj^  to  be  singled  out  by  readers  of 
ordinary  discernment. 

"2.  By  literary  Adventurers,  lately  arrived  in 
London  from  the  Provinces;  or  by  youths  from  sonte 
Scotch  University — Young  men,  who  persuade  them- 
selves, that  their  great  talents  can  only  have  adequate 
display  in  the  Metropolis,  often  arrive  in  London, 
ivith out  any  honest  means  of  obtaining  a  livelihood; 
,and,  as  a  first  resource,  tender  4;heir  service  to  some 
Bookseller,  who  publishes  a  Review.  Here  their 
stock  of  Latin  and  Greek  is  generally  placed  in  requi- 
sition; and,  till  a  more  honourable  mode  of  existe  nee 
presents  itself,  these  striplings  hire  themselves,  at  two 


Reviews  published  in  Great  Britain.        147 

or  three  guineas  per  printed  sheet  of  16  pages,  to  write 
opinions  on  all  manner  of  subjects;  and  under  the 
mask  of  the  important,  and  oracular,  "WE"  make 
the  credulous  part  of  the  public  believe  them  qualified 
to  insult  every  man  of  genius  and  learning  in  the 
eoontry. 

"3*  By  bankrupt  Authors;  the  Inmates  of  New~ 
gate.,  the  Fleet,  and  the  King's  bench.  Half  of  the 
anonymous  Criticisms,  which  appear,  are  written  in 
the  Prisons  of  the  Metropolis.  Some  Reviews  have 
been  solely  written,  and  conducted,  by  knots  of  impris- 
oned critics.  No  method  of  supporting  existence  in 
confinement  is  more  easy,  and  more  common,  than 
the  business  of  reviewing.  It  lately  happened,  that, 
during  several  months,  the  editors  of  two  rival  Re 
views  chummed  together  in  one  room  in  the  Fleet 
prison;  and  by  their  respective  efforts  produced  two 
critical  journals  of  great  authority  among  the  opposite 
partisans  of  Aristocracy  and  Democracy:  The  late 
Dr.  Bisset,  who  in  the  last  years  of  his  life  had  the 
misfortune  to  pass  several  months  in  the  King's  bench 
prison,  boasted  to  the  writer  of  this  article,  and  to 
some  other  friends,  that  he  could  produce  two  sheets, 
or  earn  six  guineas  in  a  single  day  by  reviewing;  and 
that,  as  he  had  interest  to  obtain  the  insertion  of  dif- 
ferent articles,  relative  to  the  same  book,  in  various 
reviews,  he  could  rely  on  an  income  from  these  la- 
bours of  full  six  guineas  per  week  during  his  confine 
ziient.  One  of  his  friends,  who  was  not  before  in  the 
secret  of  this  trade,  exclaimed,  "But  how  can  you  read 
fche  books,  Doctor;  so  as  to  write  two  sheets  of  criti- 
cism on  them  in  a  day?"  "Read  the  books,  man?17 
said  the  Doctor;  "read  them?-  Why  do  you  think  tt  re 


MS         Reviews  published  in  Great  Britain. 

viewer  reads  the  books?  That  shews  you  know  noth- 
ing about  the  matter"* 

"4.  By  personal  Friends,  or  Enemies, of  the  differ- 
ent Authors. — The  system  of  anonymous  reviewing 
renders  every  review  a  masked  battery,  which  is  play- 
ed according  to  the  party  of  those,  who  occupy  it, 
either  on  an  Author  by  his  enemies,  or  on  the  public 
by  his  Friends.  Any  Author,  who  stoops  to  so 
wretched  a  degradation,  may  influence  in  his  own  fa- 
vour every  criticism,  that  appears  respecting  his  work, 
by  Concessions,  by  Bribery,  or  by  employing  some 
known  reviewer  to  tender  his  services  for  the  occasion 
among  the  various  reviews. t 

*  If  any  corroboration  of  this  point  was  requisite,  in  addition  to  the  statement, 
which  will  be  found  in  the  note,  in  page  153,  au  appeal,  at  proper  opportunities, 
might  be  made  to  those,  who  have,  professionally,  a  peep  in  some  small  degree 
behind  the  curtain.  A  Review  ft  a  constant  laughing  stock  in  the  office,  where  it 
is  printed.  Let  any  journey-man  printer,  who  has  been  some  months  employed 
on  one,  tell  how  many  of  the  books,  noticed  in  it,  have  passed  through  his  hands, 
iu  which,  actually,  none  of  the  leaves  had  been  cut  open,  except  the  very  passa- 
ges to  be  copied,  the  table  of  contents,  and  the  index:  or  rather,  what  will  be 
infinitely  less  troublesome  to  him,  and  may  be  comprised  in  a  very  tew  recollec- 
tions, let  him  tell  how  many  were  not  in  that  condition.  Hence  the  eternal 
complaints  in  Reviews,  whenever  a  volume  is  published  without  an  index,  or  a 
table  of  contents. 

The  Reviewers  are  well  acquainted  with  the  remark  made  by  fopf, 

"That  index  learning  turns  no  student  pale > 
Eut  holds  the  eel  of  science  by  the  tail." 

•J*A  few  months  ago  the  -writer  of  these  remarks,  who  has  himself  played  a  prin- 
cipal part  in  this  Farce  of  anonymous  criticism,  was  applied  to,  on  the  following 
occasion,  by  an  old  friend,  a  physician  in  the  west  of  England,  who  had  some 
time  previously  published  a  medical  work,  of  considerable  merit  and  originality. 
Dr.  Jl.  had  for  several  years  practised  in  a  large  market  town;  and  had  secured 
the  confidence  of  an  extensive  connexion.  A  young  physician  from  Edinburgh, 
had  lately  settled  in  the  same  place;  who,  having  previously  passed  a  winter  ia 
London,  had  there  continued  his  acquaintance  with  some  younj  fellow  students, 
who  from  necessity  had  engaged  themselves,  at  three  guineas  per  sheet,  to  write 
in  certain  reviews.  Dr.  A.  at  the  time  of  finding  a  competitor  in  this  stripling, 
was  engaged  on  the  last  chapter  of  a  work,  upon  which  he  bad  been  occupied,  at 
intervals,  for  many  years,  and  which  was  published  iu  the  following  winter.  The 
youth,  who  on  account  of  the  established  reputation  of  Dr.  Jl.  had  obtainel  little 
practice,  rejoiced  attte  anncuacprneat  cftliis  work,  as  offering  aa  opportunity,  by 


Reviews  published  in  Great  Britain.         149 

"On  the  contrary,  any  virulent  enemy  of  an  Author 
may  wreak  his  malice  by  communicating  gratuitous 
criticisms  to  the  Reviewers;  some  of  whom  do  not 
scruple  to  receive,  and  insert,  such  articles  from  per- 

which  he  might  avail  himself  of  hfe  reviewing  connexion,  so  as  to  write  down> 
and  depreciate,  the  skill  and  science  of  Dr.  Jl.  He  accordingly  obtained  from 
one  of  his  friends  a  promise,  that  such  articles,  as  he  might  send  up,  should  be 
inserted  in  several  of  the  Reviews.  Dr.  A.  who  had  for  many  years  unsuspect- 
ingly read  the  Reviews,  as  authorities  not  to  be  questioned,  inspected  them  with 
particular  anxiety  after  the  appearance  of  his  book.  At  length  a  number,  A*hich 
contained  one  of  the  articles  written  by  his  rival,  fell  in  his  way:  and  the  worthy 
physician  was  overwhelmed  with  mortification  to  find  himself  treated  as  an  Empiric, 
a  Blockhead,  and  an  Hypothesis-monger;  as  one,  whose  patients,  if  he  had  any, 
were  objects  of  pity;  and  who  was  himself  to  be  pitied  for  the  injury,  he  had 
done  himself  and  his  family  by  such  an  exposure  of  his  ignorance.  It  will  b* 
easier  to  conceive  than  to  describe  the  mingled  emotions  of  this  worthy  man,  oa 
finding  himself  so  basely  misrepresented;  but  let  the  reader  imagine  the  anguish, 
of  his  feelings,  when  one  of  his  friends  brought  in  a  hand-bill,  which  had  the  same 
morning  been  circulated  through  the  neighbourhood,  containing  an  extract  from, 
this  very  criticism,  and  referring  to  the  review,  published  in  London,  as  the  au- 
thorit) .  He  found,  that  the  Apothecary,  in  connexion  with  the  new  Physician, 
had  been  very  industrious  in  this  business;  but  he  was  too  little  acquainted  with 
the  arcana  of  anonymous  criticism,  to  suspect  who  might  be  the  author.  Like  an 
ingenuous  man  of  letters,  he  printed  a  reply:  but  this  only  made  his  case  the 
•worse;  for  the  dark  insinuations,  and  the  broad  and  coarse  assertions,  of  his  con- 
cealed opponent  were  too  strong,  and  too  operative  on  the  minds  of  those  who 
read  them,  to  be  repelled  by  cool  argument,  and  by  the  ordinary  language  of  a 
well  educated  gentleman.  In  the  mean  time  a  literary  friend  of  the  Doctor's, 
who  knew  something  of  the  profligacy  of  criticism,  convinced  him,  that  the  article 
respecting  his  book  was  the  production  of  some  enemy;  and  that  it  would  proba- 
bly meet  with  similar  treatment  in  some  of  the  other  Reviews,  if  he  did  not  exert 
himself  to  prevent  it.  It  was  therefore  determined  as  the  securest  plan  to  avoid 
the  mischief,  that  the  Doctor  should  visit  the  Metropolis,  and  through  the  means 
of  his  friends  there,  obtain  au  introduction  to  the  proprietors,  and  publishers,  of 
the  Reviews.  The  first  place,  he  drove  to,  was  the  house  of  the  narrator  of 
these  facts;  and  they  spent  two  days  in  searching  for,  treating,  and  bribing,  the 
hirelings,  ivho  write  for,  or  superintend,  those  journals.  The  result  was,  that 
the  Doctor  obtained  permission  to  send  such  accounts  of  his  book,  as  might  be 
written  by  himself,  or  his  immediate  friends.  The  Doctor  was  now  satisfied  that 
the  former  article  had  been  the  production  of  some  enemy;  and,  though  his  soul 
revolted  at  the  task,  he  had  undertaken,  yet  his  endeavour  to  defeat  the  malice  of 
such  a  wretch  stimulated  him  to  proceed.  In  the  course  of  the  inquiry  it  appear- 
ed, that  one  of  the  new  Reviews  was  already  in  possession  of  an  article,  relative 
to  the  Doctor's  book;  and  that  the  writer  had  treated  it  with  great  severity.  This 
information  afforded  a  clue  for  the  discovery  of  the  party;  but  the  wary  editor1 
could  not  be  prevailed  upon  to  shew  the  manuscript;  nor  to  promise,  that  it 
should  not  be  printed.  The  Doctor  invited  him  to  dinner  at  his  hotel;  treated 
him  sumptuously;  and,  after  the  bottle  had  been  freely  circulated,  the  article  was 
sent  for:  when,  after  what  has  been  stated,  the  reader  will  not  be  surprised  at 

20 


150        Reviews  published  in  Great  Britain. 

sons  wholly  unknown  to  them;  and  instances  have 
occurred,  in  which  with  unblushing  profligacy  the  re- 
ceipt of  such  anonymous  criticisms  has  been  thankfully 
acknowledged  through  the  public  Newspapers. 

"5.  By  the  Authors  becoming  their  own  Reviewers. 
It  may  be  affirmed  without  the  hazard  of  denial,  that 
in  every  number  of  (a)  Review,  that  is  published, 
there  is  at  least  one  article,  wi*itten  by  an  Author  on 
his  own  work.  As  such  criticisms  never  cost  any 
thing;  their  insertion  may  frequently  be  obtained  by  a 
suitable  application  of  the  Author,  or  his  friends.  The 
proprietor  himself,  will,  under  certain  circumstances, 
receive  these  full  and  able  notices;  but  more  commonly 
their  admission  is  secured  by  the  person,  to  whom  the 
examination  of  the  book  has  been  assigned.  The  article 
itself  values,  in  account  with  the  proprietor,  at  a  cer- 
tain number  of  pounds,  shillings,  and  pence;  and  is 
thought  by  a  hungry  reviewer  to  be  a  good  hit;  espec- 
ially if  accompanied  by  a  bank  note,  or  an  invitation 
to  dinner. 

"6.  By  traders  in  Criticism. — In  London  there  are 
persons,  who  probably  gain  as  much  by  composing 
separate  critiques  for  all  the  Reviews  on  the  same  book, 
as  the  author  who  wrote  it.  A  man  of  this  descrip- 
tion is  generally  a  smatterer  in  some  particular  art,  or 
science;  and,  when  a  new  book  appears  on  his  subject, 
if  he  be  not  applied  to  by  the  different  conductors  of 
Reviews,  he  generally  tenders  his  services,  which  are 

learning,  that  the  hand  writing  was  that  of  the  young  physician,  who  had  for 
some  time  been  the  Doctor's  insidious  rival  in  the  country.  The  manuscript  was 
confided  to  the  Doctor,  on  his  promising  to  furnish  another  article  of  equal  length 
gratis;  and  undertaking  to  pay  for  fifty  of  the  ••••-  Review,  for  three  months  ta 
come,  which  he  was  to  circulate,  and  recommend,  in  his  county.  On  his  return 
home,  the  Doctor's  solicitor  immediately  commenced  a.  course  ot  legal  proceed* 
ings  against  the  young  Scotchman,  who,  finding  that  he  was  in  the  Doctor's  power, 
agreed  to  leave  that  county,  uu  their  being  discontinued. 


Reviews  published  in  Great  Britain.         151 

always  accepted  with  thanks.  Thus  one  and  the  same 
person  assumes  a  dozen  Identities;  and  by  varying 
his  language  and  opinions,  so  as  to  meet  the  character, 
the  views,  and  the  party,  of  each  of  his  employers,  he 
praises,  and  censures,  and  blows  hot  and  cold,  in  the 
same  instant.  Or  perhaps  a  book  of  high  price,  or  of 
considerable  bulk,  and  erudition,  makes  its  appearance; 
of  which,  at  the  common  price  of  three  or  four  guineas 
per  sheet,  a  critic,  who  would  live  by  his  trade,  could 
not  repay  himself  for  the  cost,  and  for  the  labour  of 
perusal,  by  a  single  criticism:  he  therefore  accommo- 
dates various  accounts  of  it  to  the  passions,  and  parties, 
of  the  several  Reviews;  and  thus  the  labours  of  the 
whole  life  of  some  learned  and  ingenious  authors  are 
wholly  at  the  mercy  of  this  wholesale  dealer  in  criti- 
cism; perhaps  an  unprincipled  and  malicious  charac- 
ter; who,  if  known  to  the  world,  would  be  the  last 
man  living,  whose  opinion  would  be  received  as  an 
authority  on  this,  or  any  other  subject  whatever. 

"7.  By  Contracting  Critics,  Master  Critics,  or  those 
who  review  by  the  lump. — Several  of  the  reviews,  to 
save  trouble  to  the  proprietors  and  publishers,  are  un- 
dertaken, or  contracted  for,  by  one  person,  at  so  much 
per  sheet;  and  this  man  stands  engaged  either  to  write 
the  entire  Review  himself,  or  to  get  it  written  by 
others.  Delegations,  two  or  three  deep,  are  very  com- 
mon in  this  species  of  criticism.  The  contracting 
critic  receives,  himself,  perhaps  after  the  rate  of  seven 
guineas  per  sheet;  but  in  paying  his  journeymen  for 
occasional  aid  he  gives  but  three  or  four  guineas. 
The  journeyman  too  employs  a  species  of  labourer, 
whose  province  it  is  to  skim  the  book,  prepare  the 
general  heads  of  the  analysis,  mark  the  extracts,  &c. 
&c.:  a  business  which  is  paid  for  by  the  job,  or  ac- 
cording to  the  size  of  the  book. 


Reviews  published  in  Great  Britain. 

"8.  By  the  profligate  Calculations  of  the  conduct- 
ors.— It  is  a  maxim,  which  is  constantly  acted  upon 
in  the  management  of  a  Review,  that  it  will  not  please 
all  palates,  tinless  it  be  well  seasoned;  or,  in  the  tech- 
nical language  of  the  reviewing  craft,  "T/ie  Review 
will  not  sell,  unless  a  sufficient  number  of  authors^ 
and  their  books,  be  regularly  cut  up."  It  becomes, 
therefore,  part  of  the  ordinary  business  of  every  con- 
ductor to  take  care,  that  there  is  no  deficiency  of 
Sauce;  and  to  engage  a  few  Miscreants,  well  versed 
in  the  language  of  Billingsgate.  Accordingly,  then, 
to  the  degree  of  honour  and  feeling,  possessed  by  the 
conductor,  or  as  the  Review  is  falling  or  rising,  in  sale, 
it  will  be  arranged,  whether  the  proportion  of  half]  a 
third,  or  a  quarter,  of  the  books,  noticed  in  every  num- 
ber, are  to  be  vilified.  This  direct  ratio  between  the 
fall  in  sale,  and  scurrility  of  language;  and  between 
the  rise  in  sale,  and  decency  of  language;  furnishes 
data,  by  which  any  person  may,  by  counting  the  arti- 
cles of  each  Character,  calculate  at  any  time  the 
Healthiness,  or  the  Decrepitude  of  any  Review. 

"9.  By  the  superficial  view,  which  the  hired,  and 
anonymous,  critic  takes  of  the  books,  oj  which  he 
gives  an  opinion — It  is  a  fact,  which  will  startle 
some  readers  of  these  observations,  but  which  a  little 
attention  will  confirm,  that  the  persons  who  write  the 
Mordhly  Catalogue  in  most  of  the  Reviews,  do  not  see 
half  the  books,  which  they  characterize;  but  write 
their  flippant  notices,  solely  from  the  advertisements 
in  the  newspapers.  The  present  or  former  conduct- 
ors of  certain  reviews,  may  blush  to  see  this  "secret  of 
their  prison-house"  go  forth  to  the  world;  but  the  wri- 
ter pledges  himself  to  give  names,  and  other  particu- 
lars, if  the  fact,  to  the  extent  he  has  stated,  should  be 
contradicted,  L*et  any  person  turn  over  the  Monthly 


Reviews  published  in  Great  Britain. 

Catalogue  of  various  Reviews  for  a  few  months,  and 
he  will  not  ;ail  to  be  -struck  with  the  imposition,  which 
has  been  practised  on  him;  by  observing  that  much 
above  half  of  the  silly  Paragraphs,  which  are  append- 
ed to  the  titles  of  Pamphlets,  and  of  the  other  works 
in  this  part,  would  apply  with  as  much  propriety  to 
most  other  articles  in  the  list,  as  to  those  to  which  they 
are  assigned.  This  is  so  palpable,  that  no  more  need 
be  urged  to  prove  the  existence  of  this  flagrant  abuse 
of  the  name  of  Criticism,  It  may,  however,  be  worth 
while  to  explain,  that,  as  reviewers  are  paid  by  the 
sheet,  at  the  rate  of  three,  four,  five,,  or  six  guineas  per 
sixteen  pages,  according  to  their  professional  capacity, 
and  experience;  and,  as  the  articles  in  the  Monthly 
Catalogue  seldom  exceed  a  few  lines  each,  these  would 
not  produce,  on  an  average,  more  than  eighteen  pence, 
or  two  shillings,  a  piece;  and  sometimes  not  half  of 
the  smallest  of  these  sums.  It  is  absurd,  therefore,  to 
suppose,  that,  if  Reviewers  mean  to  gain  a  livelihood, 
they  take  the  trouble  to  read,  or  even  to  seek,  such 
unproductive  trash.* 

*  A  picture  from  the  life  will  illustrate  this  abase  better  than  a  multitude  of  ob- 
servations. A  principal  Reviewer,  possessed  of  more  learning  than  prudence, 
had  been  surrendered  by  his  bail  to  the  custody  of  the  Marshal  of  the  Fleet. 
From  one  of  the  Attics  of  that  Dormitory  of  disappointed  enterprise,  he  address- 
ed himself  to  his  old  Friend,  the  bookseller  in  Paternoster-row;  who,  knowing  his 
talents,  and  fearing  his  resentment  if  neglected,  sent  a  packet  of  eight  or  ten 
new  publications  for  the  next  month's  Review.  The  Critic,  who  always  compos- 
ed through  the  medium  of  an  Amanuensis,  caused  an  inquiry  for  one  to  be  made 
in  the  prison;  and  presently  a  young  man  was  enlisted  in  his  service,  who  was 
not  devoid  of  intelligence,  but  hitherto  a  total  stranger  to  the  Mysteries,  in  which 
he  was  speedily  to  be  initiated.  He  seated  himself  with  hie  pen  in  his  hand;  when 
the  Reviewer  untied  the  parcel  of  books;  and,  taking  up  a  handsome  Quarto, 
vead  the  title  page;  and,  giving  the  volume  to  the  Amanuensis,  desired  him  to 
copylhe  title.  While  this  was  performing,  he  took  several  turns  in  the  room;  and, 
having  two  or  three  times  asked  impatiently  whether  the  title  was  finished,  he  or- 
dered the  Amanuensis  to  write.  He  then  dictated  an  opening  paragraph  of  con- 
siderable length;  in  which  he  abused  without  mercy  the  self-conceit  of  the  Author 
in  supposing  himself  qualified  for  such  an  undertaking;  enumerated  the  attempts, 
that  had  been  made  by  various  other  Persons  in  the  same  species  of  writing;  as- 
cribed this  Work  to  overweening  Vanity,  Sec.  &c.  The  Amanuensis  was  struck 


154        Reviews  published  in  Great  Britain. 

"Accordingly,  the  fact  is,  that  this  department  of  the 
review  is  committed  to  persons,  kept  on  the  establish- 
ment, as  the  manufacturing  expression  is;  who  are 
paid  a  small  monthly  allowance,  (four  or  five  guin- 
eas,) for  executing  it;  which  is  divided  among  them, 
if  more  than  one  are  employed;  and  is  issued  regular- 
ly, in  weekly  portions,  by  the  bookseller,  every  Mon- 
day morning;  being  then  frequently  sent  to  some  gaol, 

•with  surprise:  for  he  perceived  that  not  a  leaf  of  the  book  had  been  opened;  and 
was  sensible,  that  the  Dictator  had  not,  till  that  moment,  seen  the  work.  He  was 
however  staggered  in  this  supposition,  when  he  again  heard  himself  commanded 
to  write  as  follows: — "The  ensuing  passages  alone  will  satisfy  our  readers  of  the 
justice  of  these  conclusions;  but  if  we  chose  to  multiply  examples  of  presumption 
and  absurdity,  we  could  fill  our  number  with  the  dull  conceits  of  this  blockhead!" 
The  Reviewer  now  took  up  the  volume,  to  seek  for  the  passages^  which  were  to 
answer  this  prejudication,  turned  over  its  preface  rapidly,  and  muttered:  f(This 
fellow's  determined  to  give  one  all  the  trouble,  he  can — JVb  contents  I  see! — - 
Index  perhaps?  JVor  that  neither/ — Dies  hard;  but  must  be  damned  for  all 
that" — He  then  angrily  turned  over  the  leaves  from  beginning  to  end;  read  the 
beads  of  some  of  the  chapters;  and  at  length  exclaimed,  "Yes,  1  have  it.  Write, 
Sir.  Begin  page  273,  "At  the  same  instant,  that,"  to  278,  at  "hitherto  proceed- 
ed." "  Now  with  the  rapidity  of  lightning  opening  the  volume  further  on, 
"Write,"  he  resumed,  "This  opinionated  gentleman,  not  satisfied  with  differing 
from  every  writer,  who  has  preceded  him,  from  Aristotle  to  Rousseau,  has 
chosen  to  refute  all  his  own  doctrine  by  the  following  whimsical  positions.  Peace 
to  his  spirit!  We  hope  never  to  wade  through  such  another  Augean  stable;  but 
long-suffering  is  the  lot  of  our  fraternity. — Begin  page  417,  "with  this  view,"  to 
page  420,  at  "broad  basis."  And  again,  page  432,  "It  is  well  known,"  to  page 
435,  at  "indispensably  necessary."  We  should  have  pitied  the  unfortunate  pub- 
lisher who  ignorantly  embarked  his  money  in  this  wretched  performance,  if  the 
fellow  had  not  the  impudence  to  fix  the  price  of  three  half  guineas  on  a  volume, 
•which,  a,Jter  a  patient  examination,  we  can  pledge  ourselves,  is  nst  toorth  three 
farthings"  Thus  ended  the  Review  of  this  wo; k,  which  has  since  passed 
through  several  Editions;  and  the  time,  spent  in  this  fatiguing  and  patient  inves- 
tigation, was  exactly  twenty-Jive  minutes. 

The  Reviewer  now  took  up  the  next  book;  which  he  praised  as  extravagantly, 
as  he  had  abused  the  other;  and  thus  proceeded  through  the  parcel,  cutting  open 
not  more  than  twenty  pages  of  the  whole,  and  praising,  and  damning,  as  his 
Caprice,  or  some  secret  Feeling,  suggested;  or  just  as  it  seemed  to  suit  the  hu- 
mour of  the  moment.  The  time,  spent  in  thus  characterizing,  in  dogmatical 
and  vehement  language,  tws  Quartos,  five  Octavos,  two  Duodecimos,  and  two 
JPamphlets,  -was  about  two  hours  and  half.'  The  Amanuensis,  on  turning  af- 
terwards to  the  highly  reputed  Review,  in  which  these  elaborate  criticisms  were 
displayed,  found,  that  they  ocsupied  one  third  of  the  Number.'  He  declined  any 
further  participation  in  so  disgraceful  an  employment,  and  has  since  communicated 
the  above  Facts  to  various  persons,  and  among  others  to  the  writer  of  these  re,. 
marks,. 


Reviews  published  in  Great  Britain.         155 

like  the  creditors'  sixpences,  which  become  due  on  that 
day;  or  given  to  some  of  the  upper  assistants  in  the 
booksellers*  shops,  who  are  sometimes  employed  at 
this  business  in  their  spare  hours.  Such  being  a  cor- 
rect dtscription  of  the  persons,  and  the  practices,  of 
those  who  write  anonymous  criticisms,  is  it  to  be 
wondered  at,  that  these  people  uniformly  deny  their 
craft;  and  that  a  greater  insult  cannot  be  offered  to 
one  of  these  pioneers  of  Grubstreet,  than  to  insinuate, 
that  he  writes  for  any  review?  Not  only  is  the  prac- 
tice disavowed  by  the  whole  fraternity,  but  if  you 
knew  a  man  to  be  a  scribbler  in  reviews,  and  were  to 
ask  if  he  wrote  an  article,  in  itself  meritorious,  he 
would  deem  even  this  an  insult,  never  to  be  forgiven! 
It  is  true  that  some  reviewers  are  well  known:  but 
these  are  generally  either  young  in  the  trade,  and  not 
yet  acquainted  with  the  infamy,  attached  to  it;  or 
coxcombs,  whose  vanity  supersedes  every  other  feel- 
ing. Boys  at  school,  and  half  informed  people  in  the 
country,  consult  these  oracles  with  so  much  unsus- 
pecting credulity,  that  a  Stripling  from  a  Scotch  Uni- 
versity, who  is  admitted  to  perform  the  lowest  offices 
in  these  Temples  of  Imposition,  considers  himself  as 
having  become  part  of  the  Godhead,  and  gives  him- 
self Airs  accordingly.* 

"There  is,  however,  one  class  of  men,  who  give  occa- 
sional countenance  to  Reviewers  without  intending  the 
mischief,  which  they  thus  assist  in  perpetrating.  These*; 
are  certain  vain  Pedants  at  our  Universities;  who, 
knowing  little  of  the  world,  consider  Reviews  as  ex- 
actly what  they  appear  to  be;  and  having  no  readier 
means  of  displaying  their  knowledge  of  particular  sub- 

*  A  certain  Northern  Review  is  now  written  chiefly  in  London  by  young  men., 
who  have  but  just  finished  their  attendance  on  their  University  Lectures;  artd 
the  oldest  of  them  is  ssuti  lyrt  to  exceed  fire  and  twenty  years  of  age. 


156        Reviews  published  in  Great  Britain. 

jects  are  often  flattered  by  having  some  abstruse  Work 
committed  to  them  by  the  conductor  of  the  Review, 
Tickled  by  this  kind  of  compliment,  they  cannot  con- 
ceal it  from  certain  intimates,  who  circulate  the  fact  in 
the  university,  that  Dr. writes  for  the  Re- 
view; and  thus  half  the  world  are  led  to  suppose,  that' 
Reviews  are  written,  con  amore,  by  men  of  real  honour 
and  learning.  Professors  in  universities  ought  to  be- 
ware of  thus  becoming  the  dupes  of  their  vanity,  by 
enlisting  themselves  among  a  race  of  impostors,  as 
base  and  unprincipled  as  ever  disgraced  society. 
Their  names,  and  their  talents,  ought  to  be  reserved 
for  worthier  purposes,  than  that  of  giving  countenance 
to  hired,  and  anonymous  defamation. 

"Conclusion.  The  obvious  inference  from  all,  that 
has  been  stated,  is  this;  that  the  great  Vice  of  Review- 
ing exists  in  the  concealment  of  the  Writers;  and  thatj 
while  anonymous  Criticism  is  tolerated,  it  is  impossible 
even  for  a  conductor,  who  is  a  man  of  integrity,  to 
guard  against  its  corruptions,  and  its  abuse. 

"A  learned  and  gentlemanly  Critic  would  be  able, 
though  he  signed  his  name  to  his  criticism,  to  perform 
ample  justice  to  an  author,  and  the  public.  He  could 
not  adopt  the  impertinent,  arrogant,  and  boasting  style 
of  the  present  contemptible  race  of  Anonymous  Re- 
viewers; but  his  Inferences  and  Opinions,  would  be 
received  with  Respect;  the  Public  would  be  enlight- 
ened; and  Error  and  Imposition  would  be  corrected 
and  exposed.  Authors  could  assure  themselves,  that 
their  books  were  seen,  and  read,  before  they  were  de- 
cided upon,  and  the  public  would  appreciate  justly  the 
value  of  a  decision,  thus  made,  and  thus  guaranteed. 

"Those,  who  contend  that  Critics,  under  such  a  sys- 
tem, dare  not  do  their  duty,  either  do  not  understand 
what  is  meant  by  the  word  Criticism;  or  do  not  con- 


Reviews  published  in  Great  Britain.         157 

sider  what  was  the  object  of  Reviews.  Our  essayists, 
from  Addison  to  Cumberland  and  Knox,  afford  speci- 
mens of  criticism,  such  as  no  Man  could  have  cause  to 
disown,  and  such  as  would  always  be  received  with 
avidity  by  the  public.  True  literary  Criticism  in  the 
hands  of  real  Scholars  is  the  opposite  of  every  thing , 
that  characterizes  our  modern  Reviews;  it  never 
searches  for  personal  anecdotes  of  Authors,  or  con- 
founds in  its  Disquisitions  his  Foibles,  or  Weaknesses, 
with  the  merits  of  his  performance;  it  never  magnifies 
blemishes,  shuts  its  eye  to  beauties,  becomes  the  tool  of 
a  party,  either  political  or  literary,  misquotes,  delights 
in  abusive  and  violent  epithets,  or  arrogates  its  own  in- 
fallibility! It  is,  in  a  word,  a  liberal  science,  which  no 
honest  Man  need  be  ashamed  to  exercise  and  avow; 
but  in  the  hand  of  a  concealed  assassin  it  may  be,  (and 
unfortunately  is,)  converted  to  the  most  destructive 
and  diabolical  purposes.  True  Criticism,  like  Char- 
ity, "suffereth  long  and  is  kind;  envieth  not;  vaunt- 
eth  not  itself;  is  not  puffed  up;  doth  not  behave  itself 
unseemly;  seeketh  not  her  own;  (is  not  selfish;)  is  not 
easily  provoked;  thinketh  no  evil;  rejoiceth  not  in  in- 
iquity, but  rejoiceth  in  the  truth.'5 

"Yet  as  the  vice  exists  chiefly  in  the  anonymous 
character  of  the  system,  the  moral  views  of  the  Con- 
ductor of  every  Review  are  not  intended  to  be  called 
in  question.  One  or  two  of  those  gentlemen  are 
known  to  be  men  of  character;  who  would  not  wil- 
fully participate  in  the  grosser  Abuses  of  the  reviewing 
trade:  but  those  Abuses  are  too  inherent  in  the  system 
to  be  successfully  guarded  against;  and  as  these  gentle- 
men must  be  perfectly  sensible  of  this  Truth,  it  is  a 
Duty  which  they  owe  to  the  world,  to  affix  the  names 
of  those,  who  write  in  their  critical  journals,  to  their 
respective  articles,  in  order  that  the  public  may  pos- 
21 


158       Reviews  published  in  Great  Britain. 

sess  the  only  Guarantee,  which  can  be  given  of  the 
candour  and  integrity  of  such  Writers;  and  also  that 
their  journals  may  secure  a  continuance  of  that  Confi- 
dence and  Support,  which  has  hitherto  been  unthink- 
ingly? and  ignorantly,  reposed  in  them."* 

"The  author  of  the  preceding  statement  of  facts 
thinks  it  proper  to  add,  that  in  drawing  it  up  he  has 
been  solely  actuated  by  a  love  of  truth,  a  hatred  of 
Imposture,  and  a  sense  of  duty  to  the  literary  world, 
and  the  public.  No  honourable  or  conscientious  Re- 
viewer (though  the  writer  believes  that  few  men  of  that 
character  can  long  continue  the  employment  of  writing 
anonymous  opinions  on  others,)  will  be  offended  at  this 
just  exposition  of  the  misconduct  of  those,  who  abuse 
their  office.  He  hopes  to  live  to  see  a  reformation  in 
the  system;  and  that,  if  a  respectable  and  independent 
body  of  literary  characters  cannot  be  persuaded  to 

*  "Next  in  importance  to  the  newspapers  are  the  works  of  periodical  criticism, 
•which  are  here  called  Reviews.  Of  late  years  it  has  become  impossible  to  place 
any  reliance  upon  the  opinions,  given  by  these  journals;  because  their  party  spirit 
now  extends  to  every  thing.  Whatever  be  the  object  of  a  book,  though  as  remote 
as  possible  from  all  topics  of  political  dissention,  it  is  judged  of  according  to  the  pol- 
itics of  the  author:  for  instance,  one  of  these  journals  has  pronounced  it  to  be  Jaco- 
binical to  read  Hebrew  without  points.  There  are  other  reasons,  why  there  is  s^> 
little  fair  criticism.  Many,  perhaps  the  majority,  of  these  literary  censors,  are 
authors  themselves;  and  as  such  in  no  very  high  estimation  with  the  public. 
Baboons  are  said  to  have  an  antipathy  to  men,  andthese,  tvho  are  the  baboons  of  lit' 
erature,  have  the  same  sort  of  hatred  to  those,  -whose  superiority  they  at  once  feel 
and  deny.  You  are  not,  however,  to  suppose,  that  the  general  character  of  these 
journals  is  that  of  undeserved  severity:  they  have  as  many  to  praise  as  to  blame; 
and  their  commendations  are  dealt  upon  the  same  principle,  or  want  of  principle, 
as  their  censures.  England  is  but  a  little  country;  and  the  communication  between 
all  its  parts  is  so  rapid,  tbe  men  of  letters  are  so  few,  and  the  circulation  of  soci- 
ety brings  them  all  so  often  to  London,  as  the  heart  of  the  system,  that  they  are 
all  directly,  or  indirectly,  known  to  each  other.  A  writer  is  praised  because  he  is 
a  friend,  or  a  friend's  friend;  or  he  must  be  condemned  for  a  similar  reason.  For 
the  most  part  the  praise  cf  these  critics  is  milk  and  iuatert  and  their  censure  sour 
small  beer.  Sometimes,  indeed,  they  deal  in  stronger  materials;  but  then  the  oil, 
ivhich  flattery  lays  on,  is  train  oil,  andit  stirks:  and  the  dirt  -which  Malevolence 
thro-ws,  is  ordure;  and  it  sticks  to  her  o~xn  fingers"  Espriella.  Letter  56. 

If  Mr.  Southey  wrote  the  Review  of  Incfuquin,  I  request  him  to  read  this  pas- 
sage in  Espriella  with  attention. 


Reviews  published  in  Great  Britain.        159 

sanction  a  Review  by  their  names,  the  public  contempt 
of  anonymous  and  systematic  scurrility  will  render  it 
harmless  and  unprofitable." 

How  greatly  are  mankind  indebted  to  this  frank, 
honest-hearted  writer  for  these  disclosures;  for  open- 
ing to  the  day-light  this  den  of  Cacus;  and  exhibiting 
the  deformed  beings  which  it  contains;  the  robberies, 
which  they  perpetrate  upon  the  reputation,  the  peace, 
and  the  principles  of  their  fellow  men;  the  foul  spirit, 
by  which  they  are  governed;  and  the  fire  and  smoke 
poured  out  upon  the  world  by  these  collections  of 
banditti.  What  a  story  are  w«  told,  when  we  are  in- 
formed by  this  Writer,  that  we  are  indebted  to  bank- 
rupts, and  inmates  of  Newgate,  the  Fleet,  and  King's 
Bench  prisons  for  halftJie  anonymous  criticisms,  that 
is,  for  half  .of  all,  'which  is  contained  in  the  Reviews, 
published  in  Great  Britian;  and  that  some  whole 
Works,  under  this  name,  have  been  solely  written  and 
conducted  by  knots  of  imprisoned  critics:  a  set  of 
scoundrels,  whom  the  Justice  of  your  country  has 
driven  from  among  mankind,  and  confined  by  bolts 
and  grates.  From  such  wretches  what  could  a  sober 
man  expect  but  just  such  Reviews,  as  those,  with  which 
Great  Britain  (deluges  the  world?  J  do  not  deny,  that 
among  these  efforts  there  are  now  and  then  specimens 
of  talents,  and  in  a  few  instances  of  superiour  talents; 
but  those  of  candour,  common  honesty,  and  common 
decency  are  lamentably  rare.  Amid  all  the  base  re- 
flections, cast  upon  the  people  of  the  United  States,  for 
their  destitution  of  understanding,  and  worth,  in  these 
dirty-minded  effusions  pf  spite  and  ribaldry,  there  is 
not  one,  half  so  humiliating,  as  the  &ct,that  the  Edin- 
burgh and  Quarterly  Reviews  are  republished  in 
country. 


160       Reviews  published  in  Great  Britain. 

Among  the  remarkable  things,  for  which  the  world 
is  indebted  to  this  Writer,  the  information  that  these 
dictators  in  the  empire  of  learning  and  taste  do  not 
even  read  the  books  which  they  professedly  review. 
"Mead  the  books,  man?"  said  Dr  Bisset  to  his  friend; 
"read  them?  Why  do  you  think  that  a  Reviewer  reads 
the  books?  That  shews,  that  you  know  nothing  about 
the  matter."  I  hope  my  own  countrymen  will  re- 
member, that  the  accounts,  so  magisterially  given  in 
these  receptacles  of  folly  and  falsehood  concerning 
the  various  works,  which  they  hash  with  so  little  de- 
cency, are  given  without  reading  the  works  them- 
selves; sentences,  pronounced  before  the  cause  is  ar- 
gued, the  witnesses  heard,  or  the  prisoner  even  known, 
by  a  Jury,  packed,  bought,  and  perjured.  How  dif- 
ferent from  all  this  are  the  fair,  upright,  and  gentle- 
manly, Reviews,  published  in  the  Christian  Observer* 

In  the  mean  time,  a  great  part  of  these  efforts  are? 
it  seems,  the  panegyrics  of  the  personal  friends,  or 
the  invectives  of  the  personal  enemies,  of  the  different 
authors  reviewed.  "Any  author,  who  will  stoop  to  so 
wretched  a  degradation,  may  influence  in  his  own  fa- 
vour every  criticism,  that  appears  respecting  his 
work,  by  concessions,  and  by  bribery.77  These  volumes 
of  iniquity  are,  therefore,  partly  made  up  of  the  despi- 
cable flattery  of  Toad-eaters,  and  partly  of  the  snaky 
virulence  of  anonymous  hatred,  pouring  out  its  vindic- 
tive malice  from  the  burrow,  in  which  it  has  hidden 
itself  from  the  public  eye. 

But  this  in  not  all.  The  author  himself  becomes 
his  own  Reviewer.  "It  may  be  affirmed,"  says  this 
respectable  Writer,  "without  the  hazard  of  denial,  that 
in  every  number  of  a  Review,  that  is  published,  there 
is  at  least  one  article,  written  by  an  author  on  his 
own  Work."  Proh  pudor!  A  pretty  employment,  in.- 


He  views  published  in  Great  Britain.         161 

deed,  for  a  decent  man  to  peruse  a  series  of  panegyr- 
ical observations  upon  a  book,  and  to  learn  in  the  end, 
that  they  are  the  miserable,  dishonest  self-adulation  of 
the  author! 

Nor  is  this  alh  These  literary  journals  are  conduct- 
ed, to  a  considerable  extent,  by  traders  in  Criticism; 
who  compose  separate  Critiques  on  the  same  bock,  for 
different  Reviews;  praise  and  blame  alternately; 
blow  hot  and  cold  with  the  same  mouth,  and  at  the 
same  instant;  and,  if  known  to  the  world,  would  be 
the  last  men  living,  whose  opinion  would  be  received 
as  an  authority  on  any  subject  whatever. 

Even  all  this  is  not  enough.  At  all  events,  "the  Re- 
view is  to  be  well  seasoned,  and  will  not  sell,  unless 
a  sufficient  member  of  authors,  and  their  works,  are 
cut  up"  Every  conductor,  it  seems,  as  a  part  of  his 
ordinary  business  "takes  care,  that  there  is  no  deficien- 
cy of  sauce;  and  engages  a  few  miscreants,  who  are 
well  versed  in  the  language  of  Billingsgate."  You, 
Sir,  have  the  honour  of  being  supposed  to  be  the  Pat- 
ron of  a  Review.  Permit  me  to  ask  how  many  of 
these  miscreants  you  have  engaged;  or,  if  you  have  not 
engaged  them,  and  this  part  of  the  business  is  done  by 
a  conductor  under  your  patronage  (as  from  your 
character,  and  station,  I  own  I  am  induced  to  believe,) 
does  it  not  seem  to  you,  that  it  is  time,  that  these  mis* 
creants  were  dismissed  from  their  employment;  at 
least  that  they  should  fight  no  longer  behind  your 
shield? 

A  considerable  portion  of  the  criticism,  published 
in  these  Journals,  is  usually  made  up  in  a  batch,  styl- 
ed the  Monthly  Catalogue.  In  the  books  named  in 
this  list,  we  are  informed,  "the  Reviewers  do  not  even 
see  one  half"  This,  indeed,  is  only  of  a  piece  with 
the  rest,  and  after  what  has  been  said  demands  no  pe- 
culiar censure. 


162        Reviews  published  in  Great  Britain. 

What  a  picture  is  here  given  of  the  literary  Jour- 
nals of  Great  Britain?  for  the  Edinburgh  Review  is 
plainly  included  in  the  author's  list,  by  the  note,  which 
he  has  added  concerning  it;  and  has  too  many  inter- 
nal proofs  of  belonging  to  this  foul  mass,  to  suffer  a 
rational  doubt  of  the  justice  of  the  inclusion.  The 
whole  story  wears  every  mark  of  truth.  The  particu- 
larity, with  which  the  iniquitous  system  is  detailed,  and 
the  accordance  of  the  several  parts  with  each  other, 
bear  strong  testimony  to  the  truth  of  the  representation. 
Besides,  the  Writer  has  openly  defied  a  contradiction 
to  his  statement,  and  has  promised,  in  answer  to  it,  to 
give  names,  and  other  particulars.  But  no  individu- 
al of  this  motley  tribe  has  thought  it  proper  to  venture 
upon  such  dangerous  ground.  Until  this  shall  be 
done,  the  account  is  to  be  admitted  as  true;  and  those, 
who  are  stigmatized  by  it,  whether  in  prison,  or  out 
of  it,  are  to  be  regarded  as  a  despicable  clan  of  ma- 
rauders on  the  principles,  the  peace,  and  the  happi- 
ness, of  their  fellow  men. 

Now,  Sir,  permit  me  to  ask  to  which  of  these  class- 
es the  Reviewer  of  Inchiquin's  Letters,  belongs.  Is  he 
"a  literary  Adventurer,  lately  arrived  in  London 
from  the  Provinces;  or  a  Youth  from  some  Scotch 
University?"  Is  he  a  "Bankrupt;  an  Inmate  of  the 
King's  Bench,  of  the  Fleet,  or  of  Newgate?"  Is  he  "a 
trader  in  Criticism,  a  Contracting  critic;  a  Master 
critic;"  who  employs  journeymen  and  apprentices  in 
his  business;  one  of  those, '  Wzo  review  by  the  lump?" 
Is  he  "a  Miscreant,  well  versed  in  the  language  of 
Billingsgate;"  "a  disgrace  to  the  moral  charade**  of 
his  country,  and  a  nuisance  to  literature?"  Or  has 
he  passed  through  all  these  gradations;  rolled  on 
through  the  slough  of  scandal;  and  contracted  con- 
tinually more  and  deeper  stains  of  baseness  and  prof- 


Reviews  published  in  Great  Britain.        16* 

ligacy?  I  will  leave  it  to  you,  Sir,  to  answer  these 
questions. 

The  remarks,  which  I  have  proposed  to  make  on 
this  shameful  production  are  fjnishe  d.  Indulge  me  now 
in  a  few  observations  concerning  the  system  of  con- 
tempt, and  abuse,  so  generally  pursued  by  English 
travellers  in  this  country,  and  reviewers  in  Great 
Britain. 

Let  me  ask  you  in  the  first  place,  "Cui  bono  eriW 
This  question  is  with  particular  propriety  addressed  to 
you,  Sir;  a  man  of  talents,  a  professed  patriot,  and  a 
statesman.  This  writer  asserts,  that  the  Americans 
indulge  an  intense  hatred  towards  Great  Britain. 
Whence  is  the  assertion  derived?  Is  the  proof  found 
in  the  war,  which  our  Government  has  declared 
against  yours?  That  our  Government,  independently 
of  this  act,  is  hostile  to  yours,  there  can  be  no  reasona- 
ble doubt,  if  by  our  Government  we  understand  Mr. 
Madison  and  his  minions.  But  even  they  did  not 
declare  war  on  this  ground.  Mr.  Madison  wanted  a 
re-election.  The  Georgians  wanted  to  lay  hold  on 
the  Floridas,  that  they  might  no  longer  be  an  asylum 
for  their  runaway  slaves.  The  people  of  Tennessee 
wanted  to  get  possession  of  the  river  Mobile.  Those 
of  Kentucky  wanted  to  possess  themselves  of  Indian 
lands;  and  those  of  Ohio  wished  to  be  delivered  from 
the  fear  of  savage  incursions.  The  people  of  Virgin- 
ia wished  to  preserve  the  reigning  Dynasty,  and  to 
keep  the  throne  in  the  regular  Virginian  succession. 
By  all  these,  or  by  the  leaders  of  all  these,  it  was  an- 
nounced to  Mr.  Madison,  as  I  verily  believe,  that,  un- 
less he  would  consent  to  the  war,  they  would  with- 
hold from  him  their  suffrages.  In  the  mean  time  their 
great  friend,  the  Emperor  Napoleon,  was  expected  to 
drive  Alexander  from  his  throne,  and  to  overrun  Ru$- 


164        Reviews  published  in  Great  Britain. 

sla  with  French  Myrmidons.  The  Continental  sys- 
tem was  to  be  carried  into  complete  execution:  Great 
Britain  was  to  supplicate,  and,  if  possible,  obtain, 
peace  from  the  French  Emperor:  and  then  all  these 
sorts  of  men  were  to  see  themselves  in  full  possession 
of  their  wishes. 

But  a  just  and  merciful  God  has  frustrated  the  de- 
signs of  them  all.  The  whole  project  was  iniquitous, 
and  has  been  blasted.  The  Emperor  Alexander  tri- 
umphed over  the  monstrous  force  which  invaded  his 
country.  The  Duke  of  Wellington  has  delivered  Spain 
and  Portugal.  The  allies  have  redeemed  Europe. 
Great  Britain,  at  the  end  of  a  twenty-two  years  war, 
during  a  great  part  of  which  she  has  stood  as  a  barrier 
against  the  ruin  of  the  world,  and  has  acquired  more 
glory  than  she  could  ever  boast  before,  sees  herself  in 
full  possession  of  all  her  power  and  greatness.  Even 
France,  after  suffering  miseries  which  defy  computa- 
tion, and  leave  the  minds  which  attempts  to  compre- 
hend them,  lost  in  astonishment,  is  placed  under  a 
free  and  equitable  system  of  government;  and  hence- 
forth may,  if  she  pleases,  be  happy.  In  all  this  I,  and 
millions  of  my  countrymen,  rejoice. 

But  there  is  nothing  in  the  American  part  of  this 
story,  which  indicates  any  thing  like  a  national  hatred 
of  Great  Britain.  Every  part  of  it  is  a  spot  on  our 
character,  so  far  as  we  have  been  concerned  in  it:  but 
the  shame  rests,  chiefly,  on  a  number  of  men,  not  very 
great;  who  have  cheated  into  the  adoption  of  it 
another  number,  which,  I  acknowledge,  is  much 
greater. 

Your  Reviewer  is  perfectly  aware,  that  the  people 
of  the  United  States  are  divided  into  two  great  political 
parties,  spread  almost  evenly  over  the  whole  country. 
The  Federalists,  who  are  a  decided  majority  in  sev- 


Effects  of  Contempt  and  Ill-nature.        165 

en,  if  not  in  eight  States,  and  are  numerous  in  most 
of  the  others,  totally  exceed  their  antagonists  in  wealth, 
talents,  reputation,  and  virtue.  These  men  are,  in  this 
country,  continually  reproached  by  the  Democrats  for 
being  friends  to  Great  Britain.  The  charge  is  false  in 
the  sense,  in  which  it  is  alleged:  in  a  higher  and  more 
honourable  sense  it  is  true.  While  they  are  incom- 
parably better  friends  to  their  own  country  than  the 
authors  of  the  charge,  they  are  firmer,  and  better 
friends  to  yours,  than  any  equal  collection  of  men  in 
the  world,  not  included  in  your  own  dominions.  They 
have  most  cordially  wished  you  success  in  your  con- 
test with  the  enemy  of  mankind,  and  exult  in  your 
final  victory.  Your  unjust,  and  unwise,  measures  to- 
wards this  country;  (for  you  have  entered  into  many 
such  measures;)  they  censure  firmly:  our  injustice,  and 
folly,  towards  you  they  reprobate  still  more  severely, 
because  they  are  more  gross.  But,  while  they  know, 
that  it  is  their  first  political  duty  to  promote  the  pros- 
perity of  their  own  country,  it  will  require  a  train  of 
injuries,  on  your  part,  to  make  them  hostile,  or  even 
indifferent,  to  that  of  Great  Britain. 

Yet,  it  is  undoubtedly  possible  by  a  series  of  efforts, 
suited  to  the  purpose,  to  fritter  away  the  good 
will  of  any  man,  or  any  nation,  towards  any  other. 
In  private  life,  contempt  and  ill  nature  will  usually 
accomplish  this  end  within  a  moderate  period.  No 
alienations  are  more  absolute  than  such,  as  are  pro- 
duced by  these  means.  The  sting  may  be  extracted; 
but  the  poison  will  be  left  behind,  and  will  there  ran- 
kle for  a  time,  to  which  limits  cannot  be  easily  assign- 
ed. This  ill  nature,  this  contempt,  have  been  poured 
upon  the  American  people  for  several  years  in  tor- 
rents of  abuse  and  falsehood.  Many  of  the  publica- 
tions, in  which  they  run.  are  issued  again  from  our 


American  Commerce. 

presses:  and  many  more  have  been  imported.     Botita 
are  extensively  read  with  answering  contempt,  and 
strong  feelings  of  indignation.     If  you  wish  us  to  be 
your  enemies,  proceed.     The  task  to  a  spirit  of  bitter 
ness  will  be  easy;  and  the  success  certain. 

The  question  is,  however,  worth  a  little  candid  and 
sober  consideration;  what  will  you  gain  by  estab- 
lishing a  firm  and  enduring  hostilty  between  the  peo- 
ple of  Great  Britain  and  the  people  of  the  United 
States?  Will  you  promote  a  single  interest  of  your 
own  country?  Commerce  is  one  of  its  interests;  the  im- 
portance of  which  you  announce  to  the  world  in  al- 
most all  your  laws,  political  regulations,  and  political 
books.  On  commerce  a  great  part  of  your  people  sub- 
sist. For  injuries  done  to  your  commerce  many  of 
your  wars  have  been  declared. 

Some  of  your  people  have  been  disposed  to  con- 
sider us  as  commercial  rivals.  This  opinion  is  built, 
not  upon  truth  and  good  sense,  but  upon  jealousy  and 
avarice.  The  world  is  wide  enough  to  furnish  com- 
mercial prosperity  to  every  nation,  which  will  seek  it 
with  industry,  enterprise  and  perseverance:  and  both 
you  and  we  may  labour  in  this  field,  to  the  utmost, 
with  every  honest  exertion,  without  doing  or  suffering. 
a  single  injury.  A  little  expansion  of  views,  united 
with  a  little  equity  of  disposition,  would  teach  thi<; 
truth  to  any  man  capable  of  comprehending  the  sub- 
ject. A  war,  of  one  year,  may  easily  injure  your  com- 
merce more  than  twenty  years  of  our  rivalry.  War 
between  you  and  us,  on  this  ground,  is  of  exactly  the 
same  nature  with  a  litigation  between  two  brothers 
concerning  their  patrimony;  which,  while  it  produces 
alienation,  hatred  and  wretchedness,  wastes  the  very 
property,  about  which  they  quarrel. 


American  Manufactures.  167 

But  there  is  another  view  of  this  subject,  not  less 
important  to  you,  and  more  easily  realized  by  eager 
and  avaricious  men.  We  are  the  best  customers,  which 
you  have  or  which  you  can  have.  We  have  been  so 
long  habituated  to  the  use  of  your  manufactures,  that 
we  steadily  prefer  them  to  those  of  any  other  people. 
Our  commerce  with  your  dominions  has  amounted, 
regularly,  to  two  thirds,  or  three  fourths,  and  always 
to  more  than  half,  of  our  whole  trade.  Cherish  it  with 
a  spirit  of  moderation  and  equity,  and  this  proportion 
will  not  be  diminished.  Persecute  us  for  a  seasen;  and 
it  will  be  soon  shrivelled  far  towards  annihilation. 

If  proofs  of  this  assertion  are  necessary;  the  present 
state  of  our  Manufactures  furnishes  such  as  are  ample. 
These,  according  to  the  returns,  made  to  the  Secreta- 
ry of  the  Treasury  in  1 8 iO,  are  estimated  at  more  than 
one  hundred  and  seventy  two  millions  of  dollars. 
From  that  period  they  have  increased,  not  only  be- 
yond all  example,  but  all  belief.  You  may  judge  for 
yourself.  All  the  manufactures  in  the  State  of  Rhode 
Island  amounted,  according  to  this  estimate,  only  to 
1,170,074  dollars.  In  1814,  the  Cotton  manufactures 
of  this  State  produced  cotton  goods,  of  the  value 
of  8,500,000  dollars.  An  increase  of  manufactures,  of 
many  kinds,  though  not  equally  yet  very  great,  has 
spread  over  most  of  this  country.  Many  of  the  pro- 
ducts of  these  labours  are  not  inferiour  to  any,  of  the 
same  kinds,  which  are  imported.  This  is  true  of  our 
best  Cloths:  a  manufacture,  which  has  already  been 
extended,  and  is  now  extending  with  a  rapidity,  ex- 
ceeding even  the  sanguine  expectation  of  projectors. 
The  Merino  sheep,  which  have  multiplied  here  with 
very  great  success,  and  which,  instead  of  depreciating, 
inprove  in  our  pastures,  furnish  a  solid  basis  for  the 
jei'petuity  of  our  manufacturing  establishments,  of  this 


168  American  Manufactures. 

class.  Others,  of  many  kinds  have  been  increased  with 
similar  rapidity  and  similar  success. 

A  moderate  period  of  time,  spent  in  mutual  provo- 
cations and  hostilities,  will  detach  the  people  of  this 
country  from  their  habits  of  using  British   manufac- 
tures, and  rivet  th   r  attachment  to  their  own.  When 
it  is  remembered,  that  this  country  abounds,  or  may 
easily  abound,  in  materials  of  almost  every  kind  for 
the  exercise  of  manual  ingenuity;  that  we. have  wood, 
iron,  leather,  wool,  cotton,  flax,  hemp,  grain,  tobacco, 
salt-petre,  sulphur,  dying  materials,  all  the  kinds  of 
earths,  and  every  useful  species  of  stone;  particularly, 
immense  quantities,   and  very   beautiful  varieties,  of 
marble;  that  silk  is  already  made  here  in  considerable 
quantities,  as  easily,  and  of  as  good  a  quality,  as  in 
Italy;  that  mines  of  various  metals  are  discovered  al- 
most every   year;  that  we  have  mill- streams,   suffi- 
ciently numerous  to  supply  water-works  of  every  kind 
for  several  such  countries;  that  we  have  invented,  and 
adopted,  many  modes  of  abridging  labour,  and  that 
every  such  mode  is  a  benefit  to  the  whole  community, 
without  being  injurious  to  a  single  individual;  and  that 
we  have  sufficient  capital,  ingenuity,  enterprise,  and 
perseverance,  to  carry   into  execution  every  thing  of 
this  nature,  which  can  be  of  importance  to  our  prosper- 
ity: when  these  things  are  remembered  by  a  discreet 
Englishman,  he  will  believe  without  much  difficulty, 
that  we  shall  soon  find  both  our  interests,  and  our 
prejudices,  advantageously  consulted  by  preferring  the 
fruits  of  our  own  labour  even  to  those  of  British  in- 
dustry. 

There  is  another  point  of  view,  in  which  the  im- 
portance of  these  considerations  is  still  more  strongly 
illustrated.  In  the  year  1810,  the  people  of  the  Unit- 
ed States  amounted  to  more  than  seven  millions.  In 


American  Imports.  169 

twenty  five  years  they  will  amount  to  fourteen  mil* 
lious:  at  least  they  have  hitherto  increased  in  this  pro- 
portion. In  twenty  five  years,  therefore,  our  con- 
sumption of  your  manufactures,  if  the  natural  course  of 
things  should  be  uninterrupted,  will  be  double.  In 
fifty  years  it  will  be  quadrupled.  In  seventy  five,  we 
shall  take  off  all  the  superfluous  products  of  your  in- 
dustry. Such  a  source  of  custom  was  never  before 
opened  to  any  nation  in  the  world.  It  will  be  unwise 
in  your  Statesmen  to  promote,  either  in  your  people,  01 
in  ours,  any  dispositions,  or  any  efforts,  which  may 
prevent,  or  seriously  disturb,  a  progress  of  things,  of 
which  you  may  avail  yourselves  with  so  much  ease, 
and  so  much  benefit. 

The  Returns,  which  we  make  for  your  manufac- 
tures, are  more  useful  to  you  than  any  other.  They  are 
either  money,  or  raw  materials,  on  which  the  indus- 
try of  your  people  is  to  operate;  essential  to  their 
prosperity,  and  even  to  their  support;  furnished  on 
better  terms  than  you  could  obtain  them  elsewhere; 
many  of  them  inexhaustible;  and  some  of  them  not 
otherwise  attainable  without  a  considerable  sacrifice. 
Were  the  decision  of  this  question  left  to  a  sober  mer- 
chant, common  sense  would  teach  him  irresistibly., 
that  a  voluntary  relinquishment  of  such  advantages 
would  be  little  less  than  lunacy. 

You  will  perhaps  reply,  that  the  causes  of  such  an 
event  lie  with  us,  and  not  with  you.  As  proof,  that 
the  assertion  is  just,  you  will  probably  allege  the  meas- 
ures of  our  Government,  and  particularly  its  declara- 
tion of  war  against  you.  I  readily  allow,  that  the  al- 
legation is  plausible,  and  that  to  an  Englishmen  it 
may  very  naturally  appear  decisive.  Still  it  is  un- 
sound: and  if  you  and  your  countrymen  understood 
the  real  state  of  things  on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic,  you 


170  Mr.  Jefferson  and  Mr.  Madison. 

would  acknowledge  it  to  be  unsound.     Mr,  Jefferson 
and  Mr.  Madison  are  unquestionably  hostile  to  Great 
Britain.     Their  measures  have  proved  this  so  clearly, 
that  to  doubt  it  would  be  an  insult  to  one's  own  un- 
derstanding, and  to  question  it,  to  the  understanding 
of  others.     But  they  have  been  less  hostile  to  you 
than  to  us:  and  a  conviction  of  this  truth  has  spread 
very  far  among  their   own   adherents.     Except   the 
Missions  of  Pike,  Lewis*  and  Clark,  to  explore  the 
Mississippi  and  Missouri,  there  is  not  a  single  measure 
originated  by  either,    during  the   fourteen  years  of 
their  reign,  which  has  reflected  the  least  credit  upon 
their  character,  or  produced  the  least  benefit  to  the 
United   States.     Mr.  Jefferson,  indeed,  sent  a  fleet, 
which  he  truly  styled  "the  least  competent  force,"  to 
humble  the  insolence  of  the  Bashaw  of  Tripoli:  but 
had  not  Preble  and  Eaton  transcended  his  orders, 
and  with  an  elevation  of  character,  of  which  he  never 
formed  a  conception,  accomplished  what  he  never  in- 
tended, nor  believed  to  be  possible;  the  Bashaw  would 
have  laughed  at  Mr.  Jefferson,  and  continued  his  dep- 
redations on  our  commerce,  and  our  seamen,  to  the 
present  hour.     The  truth  is;  Mr.   Jefferson,    though 
possessed  of  considerable  ingenuity,  and  a  good  deal 
of  cunning,  is  absolutely  destitute  of  wisdom,  as  well 
as  of  principle;  of  that  sound,  practical  good  sense, 
which  alone  has  ever  been  of  any  use  to  mankind  in 
the  management  of  either  their  public  or  their  private 
affairs.     Of  Mr.  Madison   it  is  enough  to  say,  that, 
without  the   cunning  of  his  Master,  he  has  humbly 
trodden  in  his  steps.     If  the  art  of  governing  consisted 
in  originating,  or  defending,  abstract  propositions,  or 
general  principles,  Mr.  Madison  would  not  have  been 
without  his  share  of  reputation  among  rulers.  But  as  it 
actually  consists  in  the  exercise  of  practical  good  sense 


Mr.  Jefferson  and  Mr.  Madison.          171 

and  skill  in  the  business  of  man,  directed,  as  well  as 
prompted,  by  a  public,  and  not  a  party,  spirit;  no 
niche  will  ever  be  furnished  for  his  reception  among 
Respectable  men  of  this  character. 

Still,  they  have  been  useful  instructors  to  the  Amer- 
ican people.  Mr.  Jefferson  has  taught  us,  that  Infi- 
delity is  an  unprofitable  spirit,  and  cunning  an  un- 
profitable guide,  in  the  management  of  national  inter- 
ests. Mr.  Madison,  as  well  as  his  Master,  has  strongly 
exhibited  the  visionary  nature  of  theoretical  specula- 
tions in  the  public  concerns  of  mankind.  From  both, 
also,  have  we  learned,  that  far  other  moral  dispositions, 
than  such  as  are  possessed  by  these  gentlemen,  are 
necessary  in  the  Ruler,  who  is  to  do  good  to  his  coun- 
try. Mr.  Jefferson  found  this  country,  as  he  says,"i;j 
the  full  tide  of  successful  experiment:"  under  his  admin- 
istration, and  that  of  his  successor,  these  overflowing 
waters  have  all  receded,  and  left  their  channel  bare. 

But  we  shall  not  always  be  ruled  by  such  men,  as 
these.  Their  measures  have  already  wearied  the  con- 
fidence, and  nearly  exhausted  the  patience,  even  of 
party  spirit,  blind  and  bigoted  as  it  is.  Like  other 
nations  we  shall,  at  times,  have  good  Rulers:  and  the 
community  will  in  the  end,  like  other  communities, 
vibrate  back  to  sobriety  and  common  sense.  The 
present  generation  of  Americans  may  not,  indeed, 
cease  to  be  politically  infatuated:  the  next  will  see  all 
these  things  in  their  true  light;  and  be  astonished,  that 
they  were  not  thus  seen  by  their  fathers.  They  will 
discern,  from  the  experiment,  which  we  have  made, 
what  half  of  the  existing  generation  perfectly  under- 
stood before,  that  the  United  Slates  have  not,  and  can- 
not have,  any  possible  interest  in  making  an  offensive 
war;  that  neither  their  situation,  nor  the  nature  of 
their  government,  permit  them  to  engage  in  such  a 


17'£          Character  of  the  English  Nation. 

war;  and  that  all  their  prosperity  is  involved  in  the 
continuance  of  peace.  These  truths  every  impartial 
American  has  long  since  understood;  and  they  are 
now  extensively  believed  even  by  prejudice  itself. 

The  present  war,  therefore,  and  the  present  Rulers, 
furnish  no  solid  evidence,  that  even  our  Government 
will  be  permanently  hostile  to  yours;  much  less  that 
the  Nation  will  feel  this  hostility. 

The  character  of  your  nation  is  well  understood  on 
this  side  of  the  Atlantic.  By  a  great  part  of  the  peo- 
ple of  the  United  States  full  justice  is  done  to  your 
talents  and  your  worth,  your  institutions  and  your 
efforts.  We  know,  that  you  are  a  great  nation,  and 
have  achieved  distinguished  glory  in  many  ways,  and 
those  of  supreme  importance.  But  we  do  not  think, 
that  you  have  any  knack  at  making  friends.  You  form 
too  high  an  estimate  of  your  own  importance  to  suffer 
you  to  be  agreeable  to  others;  loftily  claim  the  respect, 
which  other  nations  solicit;  and  receive  it  as  a  tribute, 
where  other  nations  receive  it  as  a  proof  of  civility.  In 
their  books,  and  in  their  conversation,  Englishmen 
are,  more  than  any  people,  busied  in  comparing  them- 
selves with  other  nations,  and  whatever  is  contained  in 
England  with  the  same  or  similar  things,  found  in 
other  countries.  The  result  of  this  comparison  is 
almost  always  in  favour  of  themselves,  and  of  what- 
ever is  theirs.  Their  climate,  their  soil,  their  weather, 
their  productions,  their  talents,  their  institutions,  their 
religion,  their  church,  their  manners,  their  morals,  are 
all  better  than  the  same  things  in  any  other  country. 
They,  only,  are  clean,  and  neat,  in  their  persons,  and 
houses.  They,  only,  have  good  beef.  Their  peaches, 
under  a  half  frosty  sun,  are  better  than  those  of  the 
United  States,  with  all  the  advantages  which  the  finest 
seasons  can  give;  and  a  Scotchman,  noting  on 


Insolence  of  English  Travellers.  173 

rich  fruits  of  this  country,  will  gravely  inform  you, 
that  they  are  not  so  gude,  as  those,  which  grow  in  the 
garden  of  the  Duke  of  Argyle.  American  apples  are 
exported  to  England  in  great  quantities;  and  are  cried 
in  your  markets  at  high  prices;  yet  an  Englishman, 
sojourning  in  the  United  States,  pronounces  without 
hesitation,  that  they  are  far  inferiour  to  the  apples  of 
his  own  country.  An  Englishman,  not  long  since 
travelling  in  the  State  of  New  York,,  stopped  at.  an 
inn  in  Poughkeepsie.  Here  he  called  for  a  beef 
steak;  and  at  the  same  time  complained  bitterly,  that 
he  had  not  found  a  single  good  dish,  of  this  kind,  since 
he  had  been  in  America.  The  inn-keeper  told  him, 
that  he  would  givre  him  one:  and  going  into  the 
kitchen,  ordered  the  cook  to  sprinkle  the  steak  with 
sulphur.  The  Englishman  pronounced  it  delicious. 

This  comparison  occupies  a  great  part  of  the  con- 
versation  of  your  countrymen;  and  is  regularly  made 
with  haughty  airs,  and  in  an  imperious  style;  and, 
however  pleasant  to  him,  who  makes  it,  is  not  apt  to 
be  very  agreeable  to  others.  Were  we  to  receive  it 
tamely,  we  should  deserve  the  contempt,  which  you 
heap  upon  us  with  so  much  liberality. 

Nor  is  this  insolence  exhibited  to  us  only.  Your 
treatment  of  other  nations  is  seasoned  with  the  same 
spicery.  Wherever  it  exists,  it  is  felt,  resented,  and  re- 
membered. The  last  Englishman,  whom  we  have 
seen,  has  treated  us  in  this  manner:  we  expect  the 
same  treatment  from  the  next;  and  are  not  often  dis- 
appointed. /  never  knew  Jriends  made  by  this  con~ 
duct.  Frenchmen,  known  to  possess  scarcely  a  twen- 
tieth part  of  your  honesty,  and  inferiour  to  you  in 
every  other  respectable  attribute,  beside  civility,  will 
secure  many  friends,  where  you  only  make  enemies. 


174  Conclusion. 

How  will  you  justify  this  imperious  spirit,  and  be- 
haviour? Look  at  the  picture,  which  I  have  drawn 
of  your  character  as  a  people,  from  your  own  books; 
and  those,  of  unquestionable  authority.  Can  you  see 
in  it  any  reasons  even  to  palliate  this  insolence?  The 
stains  are  numerous,  and  dark:  while  I  cheerfully  ac- 
knowledge the  ground-work  to  be  bright.  The 
SAVIOUR  of  mankind,  when  solicited  by  the  Pharisees 
to  condemn  a  miserable  woman,  apprehended  in  the 
commission  of  adultery,  directed  uhim,  who  was  with- 
out sin"  among  them,  to  cast  the  first  stone  at  this  cul- 
prit. When  your  nation  has  cleansed  itself,  it  will  be 
soon  enough  for  you  to  stone  others. 

In  spite  of  all  your  contempt,  and  of  all  your  asper- 
sions, the  inhabitants  of  the  American  States  will,  in 
the  ordinary  course  of  Providence,  become  a  numerous, 
and,  permit  rne  to  say,  a  great  and  prosperous  nation. 
Our  advantages  of  situation,  soil,  and  climate,  of  man- 
ners, laws,  morals,  and  religion,  are  such,  whatever 
your  Reviewer's,  and  your  Travellers,  may  think 
concerning  us,  that  we  shall  multiply,  increase  in 
strength,  improve  in  arts  and  knowledge,  and,  I  hope, 
advance  in  morals,  to  such  a  degree,  as  to  compel  other 
nations  to  respect  us;  even  if  we  should  continue  to  be 
hated  and  despised  by  you. 

You  will  say,  perhaps,  that  our  government  is  bad, 
Yours,  during  a  great  part  of  your  national  exis* 
fence,  has  been  worse.  You  have  made  it,  in  your  own 
opinion,  the  best  in  the  world.  Time  may  enable  us 
to  improve  ours.  You  assert,  that  our  Rulers  are 
weak  and  wicked.  You  have  had  many  such.  We,  as 
well  as  you,  may  at  times  have  better.  You  censure 
us  for  our  party  spirit.  Look  at  your  own  people, 
arrayed  against  each  other  under  the  banners  of 
York  and  Lancaster;  and  pouring  out  the  blood  of 


Conclusion.  175 

one  hundred  thousand  men,  to  determine  the  important 
question,  Whether  the  White,  or  the  Red,  Rose  should 
prevail;  and  then  remember,  that  in  our  party  jang- 
lings  not  a  life  has  hitherto  been  lost,  except  that  of 
the  brave  General  Lingan:  a  martyr  to  the  violence 
of  just  such  a  mob,  as  you  have  often  seen  rolling 
through  the  streets  of  London.  Even  he  was  butchered 
by  foreigners.  There  are  many  things,  which  disgrace, 
and  distress,  this  country:  but  there  is  nothing  which 
forbids  a  rational  belief,  that  it  may  at  no  great  distance 
of  time,  be  peaceful,  virtuous,  and  happy. 

But  there  is  another  point  of  view,  in  which  these 
attempts  to  establish  alienation,  and  hostility,  between 
you  and  us,  are  still  more  to  be  regretted.  A  great 
number  of  your  people,  with  a  spirit,  in  the  highest 
degree  honourable  to  themselves,  and  singularly  glo- 
rious to  your  country,  have  begun,  within  a  few  years, 
to  send  throughout  the  world  the  Word  of  God,  and 
Ministers  to  preach  it.  The  progress,  which  they  have 
made,  is  scarcely  less  astonishing  than  the  rise,  and  the 
dowrnfal  of  Na/poleon;  and  has  excited  the  admiration, 
and  called  forth  the  blessings,  of  good,  and  even  of 
bad  men,  in  every  part  of  Christendom.  Multitudes, 
in  many  countries,  have  cordially  united  themselves 
to  these  Benefactors  of  the  world.  In  this  country 
there  are  many  Missionary,  and  at  least  sixty-five  Bi- 
ble Societies:  and  both  are  increasing  in  their  num- 
bers, and  their  efforts.  All  these  are  equally  desirous 
to  co-operate  with  your  countrymen  in  this  exalted 
design.  To  me,  Sir,  it  seems  unhappy,  that  any  ob- 
struction should  be  thrown  in  their  way.  Were  you 
to  ask  Lord  Teignmouth,  Mr.  Wilberforce,  or  many 
thousands  of  others,  who  adorn  your  country  with  in- 
telligence and  virtue,  I  am  persuaded  that  they  would 
answer  you  in  similar  terms.  When  it  is  remember- 


176  Conclusion. 

cd,  that  the  English  Language  is  now  established,  to 
a  considerable  extent,  in  the  four  quarters  of  the  globe, 
and  in  New  Holland  also,  you  will  see  that  a  founda- 
tion is  laid  for  making  it  the  means  of  communicating 
the  knowledge  of  Christianity  throughout  the  werld. 
Those,  who  speak  it,  may,  and,  if  wise,  will,  aid 
each  other  in  the  great  work  of  spreading  the  Religion 
of  the  Gospel  over  the  globe;  and  through  this  medi- 
um of  communication  will  be  enabled,  with  a  facility 
otherwise  unattainable,  to  spread  salvation  through  all 
"the  habitations  of  cruelty."  Men,  willing  to  embark 
in  such  a  design^  and  possessing  advantageous  means 
for  accomplishing  it,  should  never  be  hindered  in  their 
exertions:  nor  can  any  man  be  justified,  who  volun- 
tarily throws  obstructions  in  their  way;  or  wantonly 
attempts  to  alienate  them  from  each  other. 

It  is  high  time,  Sir,  that  a  nobler  spirit  should  be 
found  in  enlightened  nations,  as  well  as  in  enlightened 
individuals.  Rivalry,  contempt,  and  bitterness,  have 
reigned  long  enough.  These  dispositions  have  never 
reformed  either  individuals  or  nations.  Sometimes 
they  may  have  checked  insolence  and  abuse;  but  they 
never  made  a  friend,  nor  conciliated  an  enemy.  Can- 
dour and  generosity  achieve  triumphs  incomparably 
more  numerous,  and  more  honourable;  and  invest  the 
temples  of  the  victor  with  wreaths  which  cannot  fade. 
Permit  me  to  hope  that  the  intelligent  men  of  your 
nation  will,  in  greater  numbers,  hereafter  believe,  that 
these  are  triumphs  more  deserving  of  their  ambition; 
and  laurels,  which  they  may  wear  with  superiour  and 
more  enduring  glory. 

THE  END. 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

RENEWALS  ONLY— TEL.  NO.  642-3405 

This  book  is  due  on  die  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 


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